Nowhere To Go But Forward
by The Last Tactician
Summary: Shepard was bound for greatness from day one. Who knew so much could happen in just over a few years? - Starting from Mass Effect 1 and working through to Mass Effect 3 - Not just a re-telling of the games - Wonderful Shenko hidden inside
1. Path

**AN: **Well, I'll try to keep this debrief, well, brief. Welcome to _Nowhere To Go But Forward_, my whack at the Mass Effect fandom; from the meager beginnings of Mass Effect 1 to the epic conclusion of Mass Effect 3. If you hang out around any of the Mass Effect groups on DeviantArt, then you may or may not have run across this in your travels, to which I say let me know if you have. Would love to hear from you again. :)

If not, I extend my warmest of thanks for clicking on the title link. Hope I don't disappoint.

Now, I've placed this under the character catagory of Shepard, but in reality, it's not completely told from her perspective. Every character gets their own chapter thrown into the mix, from Garrus and Ashley, to Kaidan and Captain (Admiral) Anderson, and everyone inbetween. Insight from other characters in their own realm of thought lends a very nice helping hand to character development all the way around. So I hope you enjoy the change in character every once in a while.

First chapter is the only one that will be structured in the ever difficult tense of second person, so if it's not your thing, fear not. Things fall into a very familiar tone of third person right after this. And mature language be past that gray line down there. so watch out.

Now, for the sake of not wanting to bore you, I'll let you move onto the real reason why you clicked on the link. It certainly wasn't to listen to me ramble. So off you go, my fellow Mass Effect fans.

- Tac

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><p><strong>Path<strong>

No one expects to have this huge destiny about them. It's just one of those things that come out of nowhere, like a lone truck on a dark highway. You could be minding your own business, perfectly content with your leisurely stroll down this quiet road and then you see it. Bright, blinding headlights that materialize in the foggy night. Your head tells you to move your ass, get the hell out of the way before you regret it.

Hindsight is 20/20, right?

Well, you, like a fucking idiot, decide to do the "Deer in the headlight" routine and freeze, staring down this truck and facing it head on. It sees you, but keeps on driving. Hell, the damn thing _floors it_, engine angrily roaring to life. It draws closer. You have a final chance to evade this thing, but you don't take it. You're vision suddenly washes white and then_ POW_!It hits you. Runs. Your. Ass. Over. But get this. The truck doesn't stop to make sure you survived. Jerk just keeps on driving. A hit and run.

So here you are, lying there in the middle of the road with tire marks on your forehead or something, dazed. You have no freaking idea what just happened. You think someone just hit you, but you're not quite sure. Slowly, you sit up, remarkably unscathed. You look around and notice that your surroundings have changed. Instead of the single lane road you had been traveling for so long, you now sat at a crossroad, a path veering to both the left and the right. You wonder when exactly those roads appeared.

Hesitantly standing, you look behind, the familiar road that you had always walked on waiting for you, but there was a new addition to it: a toll booth. Two bucks if you wanted to pass through its gates and go back the way you had come. Liking the idea of returning to an already known path, you pat down your pockets, searching for the desired amount. You spend a few minutes searching, but then stop with a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach and an awful realization.

You left your wallet in your other pair of pants. You're flat-out broke.

You turn away from the toll booth, slightly dejected, and face the two roads before you. The left looks like a mirror copy of the right, and neither appears to be particularly menacing. You think, "Is there a right choice? Is there a _wrong_ choice?" You did not know what, if anything, waited for you down either path. In a rare expression of intelligence, you decide that you will travel down one road and should you find that you do not like it, will turn around and try the other. You smile, happy with this idea. It was flawless. A win-win situation with you cashing out the reward. Then you see a sign.

One Way Only.

Well shit, this throws a wrench into your plans. You frown, now unsure as to what to do, unsure of what path to take, as there is no turning back. You can only move forwards.

Left?

Or right?

No one expects to have this huge destiny about them. It's just one of those things that get thrown into your lap whether you want it or not. It hits you when you least expect it, knocks you flat on your ass, and then keeps on moving, running off to go screw up some other sucker's life.

Destiny leaves you with a choice; a choice that will either send you sky-rocketing to success or cause you to spiral out of control into complete and utter failure, crash landing with no hope of return. Would have been nice if it left you a hint.

So what do you choose?

Left?

Or right?

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> And so the first chapter ends. Liking it so far? I know, a bit too early to even be asking that.

Criticism is always welcome. I have much to improve on and am far from perfect!


	2. Change of Plans

**AN: **I applaud you for reaching the second chapter! Not as an insult to you, but as a compliment really. You liked the first one enough to continue onto the second, and that means a lot.

If you care to read some of my initial Author's Notes concerning all of the chapters, you can find them on Deviant Art, though I'm not so smug as to think many of you actually care for what I have to say, and I'm perfectly fine with that. Haha. Everyone knows we're here to satisfy our odd fandoms of the like and not to listen to long-winded authors ramble on and on.

So here's to less talking on my part and (hopefully) more reading on your part. :)

- Tac

**NOTE:** Mature language be waiting below.

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><p><strong>Change of Plans<strong>

"The next shuttle to Earth leaves in fifteen minutes. All passengers please report to Terminal 3A."

A woman stood from her seat, arching her back as she attempted to stretch out the knots that had developed in her lower back from travel. It had been a long journey from the Zion colony in the Exodus Cluster where her husband was stationed. He didn't want his family living there permanently, but it didn't stop her from visiting whenever she got the chance. Her youngest son sat by her feet playing with a starship, the most recent gift from his father, flying it through the air with soft _whooshing_ noises, completely lost in his own world. She smiled. It was important to get the children out to see their father too.

The mother had begun to usurer her youngest towards the terminal when she stopped to glance behind. Next to where she and her family had been waiting slept an Alliance soldier, the all too recognizable blue fatigues giving her away. The young woman had been there when they arrived at Arcturus Station, slouched in the seat with her head propped up by an arm leaning on the armrest, softly snoring. Even now, with the shuffling of feet and luggage, the tangible volume of the masses around, her chest rose and fell with sleep, undisturbed.

The mother couldn't just leave the soldier there. If the woman missed this shuttle out, it could mean another four hours before another one was available, and she was well aware of how precious shore leave was. She approached the sleeping woman, gently touching her arm.

"Ma'am…excuse me, ma'am." There was no response. She shook her arm a bit harder, "Ma'am."

/ - /

Shepard felt something on her arm. She ignored it at first; just wanting to catch a few more hours of sleep, but the feeling became more persistent.

"Ma'am…excuse me, ma'am."

The voice didn't sound familiar. A new recruit? A civilian perhaps? But if a civilian was waking her…

Shepard jolted awake, reaching for a non-existent pistol that would usually be holstered at her hip. Not finding it there sent a momentary wave of panic over her. She looked about wildly expecting to hear the sounds of a battle, but the realization slowly sunk in that she was far from such things. She was on Arcturus, only hours away from solid ground beneath her feet and the start of a two month shore leave.

She relaxed back into the seat and rubbed the heel of her palm over groggy eyes before focusing on the woman who had woken her up. She would have been in the right mind to snap at the stranger, and was about to, but a look of sympathy from the woman stopped such thoughts.

"I'm sorry, but the flight attendant just called for the next shuttle. I wasn't sure if you were going to be on it, but I would feel awful if you missed your flight."

Now she felt like a bitch. Shepard gave the woman a thankful nod, "I'm actually catching the one after this, but…it was very kind of you to ask."

The mother nodded before scooping up the child that tugged on her shirt. "Non sibi sed patriae."

Shepard blinked, the old navy motto falling from her lips before she knew what she was saying, "Not for self, for country."

She smiled. "My husband would be upset if I didn't say that to you."

Shepard leaned forward to rest her arms on her knees as she watched the woman and her family pass through the gate. Such kindness was something she was unaccustomed to. Honestly, she'd rather deal with some ass trying to pick a fight with her than unbridled humanity. At least it would be familiar territory. She glanced at her omni-tool and groaned. Three hours until her shuttle was scheduled to take off.

Settling into her seat, she shifted her duffle bag so that she could comfortably rest her feet on it and closed her eyes, letting the incoherent murmurings of the crowd lull her into a fragile sleep. Might as well spend it in some semblance of peace…

"Commander Shepard?"

Or not. Shepard shifted a tired gaze onto the attendant behind the help desk, who seemed to shrink back from it. Who could blame him? She was pissed. She was exhausted. She was pissed _because_ she was exhausted, and all of her happy-go-lucky good nature was spent on the woman from a few moments ago. Sarcasm aside, all she wanted was to get the hell off this station and into a bed with real sheets and pillows.

"Um, well—" he stammered.

"For Christ's sake, out with it." She snapped, pressing a hand to her temple. She had little patience for this. The young man flinched, looking at his console and then back to Shepard before swallowing hard.

"You're being asked to report to Security."

She frowned. "Security?"

"Y-yes ma'am. They said that there is a call waiting for you in the comm room."

Fantastic. She stood with a sigh, stretching her arms high above her head and giving her neck a good crack before throwing the duffle bag over her shoulder. The man started to give her directions but she waved him off with a disinterested hand.

"I know where it is."

It didn't take long to find her destination, as if the lumbering guards stationed next to the door were any indication. Where else would you put men like that?

"You Shepard?" One of them asked.

She bit back a sarcastic remark and opted to just give him a nod. No point in getting into a pissing match with security for the sake of her bad mood.

"Comm channel is open."

Shepard dropped her bag by the door and entered the room where a translucent Admiral Hackett was waiting for her. She snapped to attention before clasping her hands behind her back, awaiting her orders. She didn't like the feeling she was getting in the pit of her stomach, the one that told her that she was about to kiss her three months of shore leave good-bye.

"Commander, I apologize for this sudden meeting, but the Alliance is recalling you from your shore leave."

She hated being right.

"Excuse me, sir?" Shepard asked, not even attempting to hide her surprise or irritation.

"As of right now, you have been reassigned to the SSV Normandy and are to report immediately to Docking Bay 2J." The corner of her mouth twitched. The finality in his voice said that there would be no debate.

"You have something to say Commander?" Asked the Admiral, taking notice of her subdued anger.

She opened her mouth to answer him but closed it when she thought better of it. No sense in ticking off the brass. "No sir."

"Then I wish you the best of luck, Commander."

The image of Hackett faded away, and Shepard wasted no time in gathering her things and stalking out of the room. If she ever had a reason to be pissed off, this was as good of a reason as any. She turned to the guard who posed the idiotic question upon her entrance, well aware that she was scowling at him. She prayed that looks could kill, because she wanted this specific person to shrivel up and die, a sort of sacrifice to appease whatever god that had decided to pick her to receive a healthy dose of smiting. She couldn't have been so lucky.

With her duffle bag tossed over her shoulder and a hand placed on her hip, she asked one question.

"Where the hell is the fucking docking bay?"

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Is now a good time to see how you're liking it? ...Still too soon? Alrighty. I'll check back with you on the next chapter.

As always, criticsim is always welcome. I have much to improve on and am far from perfect!


	3. Excitement

**AN: **I'm going to assume that if you are willingly here at Chapter 3, then I'm doing something right. :)

Well, I don't have much to say about this chapter, though I do have a favor to ask of you if you are willing to listen.

One of the things I want to make sure I'm doing well is character development, _i.e._ Shepard seems believable, other characters seem believable, and so on. If you find anything that seems OOC for any of the NPCs and such, please let me know your thoughts. BioWare has created these fantastic characters, and I just want my written versions to live up to the standards the company has developed as much as humanly possible. I'm always looking for ways to improve.

- Tac

**NOTE: **There be mature language waiting for you below.

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><p><strong>Excitement<strong>

Shepard walked down the brightly lit corridor, a dull echo sounding from her footsteps. She came across few people once she passed the Alliance checkpoint. Away from the droning noise and large crowds of the civilian sector of Arcturus, she could feel her mood improving. Slightly. Granted, she still wasn't overly pleased with the idea of being stationed in space for who knew how long, but it came with the job.

Graduating from the Alliance's prestigious N7 program meant she didn't have the luxury of being sent off to a remote colony. Quite the opposite, in fact. She had spent most of her military career on frigates and cruisers, living with artificial gravity and falling asleep to the quite hum of an eezo drive core. She came by it honorably, of course. Military life in the great expanse brought dear old mom and dad together. It was in the Shepard blood.

_Space_…

The thought slowed her brisk pace to a gradual halt, and she turned to glance out one of the large, reinforced windows, placing a hand on the cool glass. The dark blanket of space waited outside, stars millions of light years away winking in the breadth, just beyond the reach of her fingertips.

_Twenty-nine years in space…_

Practically her entire life. Most would have gotten sick of it by now, taken the first chance to high-tail it back to a planet—any planet, really—just to get the hell out of space. But not Shepard. She rather liked the idea of being among the stars, knowing that with every light year traveled, there was potentially something new waiting out far beyond what she could see or imagine. It was your typical romantic outlook, mind you, but every bit true. Sure, the vacation would have been nice, but nothing could beat her work environment. Well, except when someone was shooting at her. But other than that, it was perfect.

_C'mon Jay, kick it into gear._

With a quiet chuckle to no one but herself, she shifted the weight on her shoulder. Staring out a window was not going to get her to her post. She could get all sappy over a glass of brandy once she was settled in.

Her mind focused on the task at hand, she made her way to the _SSV Normandy. _She had just rounded a corner when the ship came into full view, Shepard letting out a low whistle.

_Now, _that_ is a ship._

She had served on plenty of frigates before, but this one took the entire freaking cake. The hull resembled that of something out of a turian fleet, but much less geometrical. Corners that would usually be crisp and sharp were rounded to a beautiful sleek finish. The weaponry on the bow looked menacing enough to punch a hole through anything the asari had, barring their flagship, the Destiny Ascension. Though, the wing design wasn't something she was used to, and she chalked it up to the ship having some sort of secondary purpose that she wasn't aware of.

Shepard started to get that tingly feeling she got when she was far too excited for her own good. She was itching to get on board to—as childish as it sounded—go explore every nook and cranny she could possibly find. _This_ was the collaboration project between the turians and humans, funded by the pompous councilors on the Citadel themselves. It had been a work in progress for the past few years, and everyone who was anyone was dying to be assigned to it. She hadn't even realized that it had been completed.

_How did I miss processing this information from the Admiral? Oh wait, I was too pissed to realize that this was a fucking dream come true!_

Screw shore leave. This was ten—no, fifty times better than anything she could have done on some planet, and she was damn proud to be just standing in front of it.

"Welcome to the _Normandy_, Commander. She's a thing of beauty, isn't she?" said a voice, interrupting her over-excited thoughts. Shepard cringed, praying that she wasn't smiling like an idiot. She was known to do that when faced with a new "play toy."

Recovering as quickly as humanly possible, she faced the direction where the voice had come from, and her stomach promptly plummeted with dread when she recognized who had addressed her. The formal Alliance uniform, ironed to a flawless crisp, with the designated epilates on his shoulders told her that the man standing in front of her was her commanding officer. And she was most likely an ass of herself.

Shepard snapped to attention, bringing her hand to her forehead in the customary salute, hoping that the tinge of embarrassment wasn't too noticeable in her cheeks. "Lieutenant Commander Jamie Shepard, reporting for duty, sir."

Shepard noticed that there was something familiar about the man in front of her, but she just couldn't quite place where she had seen him before.

"At ease Commander," he replied. She thought she heard a hint of amusement in his voice. He extended his hand in greeting, "Captain Anderson."

_Anderson. Anderson._

She racked her brain as she shook his hand. Where had she heard that name before?

"So, what do you think of her?" he asked again, facing the ship. She was glad that he seemed to be ignoring her previous humiliation.

"Honestly, I've never seen a ship quite like this one."

Anderson gave her a nod, brimming with unchecked pride. "The _SSV Normandy SR-1_, or if you're feeling particularly wordy or are talking with one of the engineers, the Systems Alliance Space Vehicle Stealth Reconnaissance 1. I feel like the name doesn't quite give it enough justice."

"I'll have to agree with you on that one, sir." Shepard replied, pre-occupied with scrutinizing his face as she tried to place it in her memories. Where in the galaxy had she seen him? Was it in some old Alliance vid? She knew he had never been her superior officer until now. Who the hell was he?

She watched as the Captain gave the _Normandy _one last look over before facing her. "I see you've done pretty well for yourself after the Blitz."

Shepard felt like she had been smacked over the head. The Blitz! That's where she knew him from! The Captain had led the first ground team for support when a fleet of Batarian slavers and pirates attacked Elysium in the Skyllian Verge. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't have been standing there.

She smiled, trying her best not to let Anderson see her excitement in figuring out who exactly he was, "All thanks to you Captain. If you and the Alliance hadn't shown up when you did, we would have lost the colony."

He shook his head at her apparent humbled opinion of the matter, giving a small laugh before motioning for her to follow him. "Let's go Commander. The crew is just finishing up the last tests before we can take off. You'll need to get settled in before we head out."

Shepard eagerly fell instep behind Anderson, trying her best to suppress the anxiety that was bubbling up into her chest. As they walked into the airlock and as the doors slid shut behind her, she finally allowed herself a small smirk. A pale blue light swept over her.

_Decontamination in progress._

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Thanks for reading! That is all.

As always, criticism is always welcome. I have much to improve on and am far from perfect!


	4. First Thoughts

**AN:** The first thing you may notice is that this is not from the perspective of Shepard. So welcome to the first of many perspective changes, this one being Mr. Kaidan Alenko.

I'm going to jump in and give my quick opinion on something before we continue. This was actually my Author's Note from when I first uploaded this chapter to Deviant Art, but I believe it still applies here too.

Something I think some of the fans muddle is the fact that Kaidan was not head-over-heels for Shepard the moment he laid eyes on her. Yes he was interested, but it was more of a stirring that blossomed into something else over time. I seriously doubt that Kaidan is the type of guy that believes in "Love at first sight," especially when it's with his new XO. He has much more personal restraint.

This is one of the major things that I want to develop as I write more. Their relationship wasn't something that was just there to begin with. It evolved. Transformed. So here's hoping that I'll be able to do a lot more with this.

Mind you, the above is all my own opinion. If you think otherwise, then that is your right. :)

Yup. That's about it.

- Tac

**NOTE:** There be mature language waiting below.

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><p><strong>First Thoughts<strong>

**"Well, here she is."**

The airlock doors opened wide with a soft swoosh, a cool breeze flowing across the deck. Kaidan looked up from his work, a listing of all personnel currently onboard. Everyone was accounted for except—

**"I'm amazed, Captain. The Council sure knows how to spend its money."**

The Commander.

Kaidan quickly dropped his eyes back to the list in his hands, tweaking it so that it had the proper readout. LT. COMMANDER J. SHEPARD: Affirmative. He could hear Anderson already getting straight to business, giving the Commander a crash course of the Normandy's systems before she could even settle in. It took everything he had to beat his curiosity back into a dark corner where it wouldn't bother him. He handed the data pad to one of the CIC officers.

"Everyone's here."

He was in the same boat as everyone else. They were _all_ curious as hell. They had heard plenty about the woman who was meant to be the XO, and the rumor mill was working overtime. More than once had he heard some of the younger enlisted down on the crew deck speculating about their new superior officer before her arrival.

_"I heard that she took on an entire Batarian fleet with just a pistol and a handful of thermal clips."_

_"That's ridiculous! You can't take down a ship with a lousy pistol."_

_"How do you know? She's an N7! Se-ven! Like 'Shove my boot up your ass because I'm so BA' seven! Just like the Captain! Who knows what the hell they teach those guys."_

_"Man, N7 or not, there is no freaking way."_

_"Yeah? What have you heard about her?"_

_"Some say that she underwent some serious genetic modification. Like she's some sort of super soldier."_

_"And you call my idea ridiculous…"_

_"Then how the hell did we save Elysium? The colony was fucking space dust until she came along. A single soldier! Saving the entire colony? Had to have had some sort of trump card…"_

Kaidan had enough sense to sort through the obvious fabrications, but he wasn't about to deny the air of mystery that surrounded the woman. He had spent some time looking through vids and extranet articles trying to get a feel for whom this Commander Shepard was, but despite everything he knew, he understood remarkably very little. He paced up to the cockpit to check if the pilot needed anything done, a question that he was sure he was going to regret later.

**"This is Navigator Pressly. He knows these sectors and star maps like the back of his hand. You have a question about where something is, he's the man to see."**

He had able to get access to her files, but there wasn't much in there that he didn't already know. Her psych evals were practically clean, with a small blip after the Skyllian Blitz. Medals, accommodations, some really impressive postings—but nothing that told him what to expect. Nothing that told him who the person was behind the soldier. Kaidan rested his hand on the back of the seat as he peered over at the scruffy soldier.

"You all set Joker?"

The pilot scoffed at him, straightening the ball cap on his head. "I don't see why we can't just take off right now. I'm itching to try this girl out."

He'd take that as a yes. Joker was a man of few sarcastic words.

**"Is this a virtual star map? How does it work?"**

**"Just tap whatever system you want to travel to and it will automatically plot the coordinates and send them up to our pilot."**

An engineer walked up to Kaidan, handing him the data recordings from below deck. "Chief Engineer Adams says that the drive core and stealth systems are ready to be brought through the paces."

He nodded. "Make sure you let the Captain know."

"—and this is Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko."

Kaidan looked up from the device, finding himself facing the very woman that had been running rampant on his mind recently. He kept his surprise under close wraps, and ignored the odd stirring he felt in his chest. The vids did her very little justice.

"Commander." He saluted, his skin prickling has he felt her level, blue gaze do a quick sweep over him, as if she were sizing him up and categorizing him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that; not that he could tell what was going on behind her composed facial features, if anything.

She dipped her head respectfully, "I look forward to working with you, Lieutenant." Wait, had that been a glimmer in her eyes?

He watched as Anderson directed her towards the stairs that would bring her to the crew deck, his eyes unconsciously drifting to the slight sway of her hips. He mentally shook himself.

_Get a grip on yourself, Alenko._

His short encounter with Shepard had done little to alleviate the hundreds of questions that were bouncing around in his head. Kaidan couldn't understand this morbid curiosity he had for her. She was just one woman. He had had plenty of superior officers that were female, but none of them had commanded this much…awe? Wonder? He couldn't think of a proper word to suffice. All he knew was that it was more than frustrating.

He raked a hand through his dark hair, letting out a quiet sigh.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Hope you enjoyed our little detour from Shepard. Fear not, this is not the last time we will be hearing from this lovely biotic.

As always, criticism is always welcome. I have much to improve on and am far from perfect!


	5. When it Rains

**AN: **The events of Eden Prime, as seen from different eyes. Multiple perspectives in this one, though it shouldn't be too hard to tell who they are. At least, I hope not.

- Tac

**NOTE: **...Actually, I have nothing to note on. Carry on. :)

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><p><strong>When it Rains<strong>

"Drop site is secure, Commander."

It was nice to be back home, though Jenkins wished it had been on better terms. The sudden distress call set his nerves on end. They weren't anywhere near his family settlement, but the idea that his home planet was under attack left a heavy lump of anxiety deep in his gut. Why would anyone attack Eden Prime? They were just a small community of farmers and engineers. They didn't have any kind of export that would be worth launching a full scale attack.

Jenkins fell in step behind his two superior officers, with Shepard at point. He had served with Lieutenant Alenko for some time, and they had developed a sort of friendship, but this was his first mission with the Commander. _The_ Commander Shepard! He felt like an idiot. for gushing when she had approached him earlier on the Normandy, even more so when she had to admonish him for being too excited, but he held her in the most highest of regards and was a little more than jealous of her service record. He hoped to get a chance later on to apologize, maybe even be able to ask her a few more questions if she were willing to answer them.

The small team kept tight formation, moving silently across the field until one of Eden Prime's native's stopped Alenko right in his tracks. He quickly raised his rifle up to his shoulder, muzzle pointed at the awkward creature.

"What the hell are those?"

The Corporal laughed, "Relax, they're just gasbags. Perfectly harmless." _Must have been a city kid._

Silence descended upon the squad once again. Gravel crunched beneath his boots, the smell of smoke hung in the air. The nostalgia he felt couldn't betray the feeling of dread. His home had become a warzone. Not far from their position, he saw a motionless black lump, but the closer they got, the more the ambiguous shape took form of a charred human body, contorted in an endless torture of agony.

Jenkins swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. "My god," he whispered, voice thick with anguish. "What happened here?"

Coming upon the clearing, Shepard signaled for them to stop. She scanned the area, listening and watching for any signs of movement, then motioned for Jenkins to scout ahead. He steeled his nerves, and jogged ahead, weapon at the ready.

He hadn't seen the geth drones appear from the forest meters in front of him. They cut through the air without a sound, programming spurring them on with the sole purpose of terminating all organic life forms. He didn't stand a chance.

Jenkins didn't know what had happened. Once second he was on his feet about to give his squad mates the all clear and the next, he was staring up at the motley red-orange sky of Eden Prime, body racked with pain. It was coming from everywhere, his chest, his legs—he couldn't pinpoint the source. He thought he heard the three-burst shot of the Commander's rifle, the steady beat of the Lieutenant's pistol, but even those noises sounded distant, like he was listening to them from the end of a long tunnel. He knew that there was a firefight going down, and he willed for his hand to grasp the rifle that lay next to him, but it wouldn't respond. He gazed up at the horizon, the corners of his vision fading to black.

_The sky. The sky was always so clear, so blue…_

_/ - /_

She should have known that something was going to go wrong. From the very second those scientists unearthed—what did they call it? A Prothean beacon? Whatever it was, it was bad news, and Ashley decided that it was the sole reason that she was fighting for her life right this moment.

Rifle clutched tight to her chest, Ashley's feet pounded on the dusty earth as she tried to get some distance between her and the synthetics. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, urging her to run faster. Her heart beat wildly in her ears, drowning out every other noise. _Thu-dump. Thu-dump. Thu-dump. _ It was a deafening symphony of drums. She felt the heat rounds bounce off as her shields absorbed most of the kinetic impact. Damn it, they were close.

The geth had come out of nowhere, ambushed her squad. They were gone: all of them dead. And she was most likely next to follow if she didn't think of something soon.

_Where the hell is the Alliance?_

She took a cautionary glance behind. They were closing in fast. At least four of them, from what she could see. Damn synthetics. Ashley made a note to punch the next quarian she came across should she survive. Then, up ahead, she caught sight of some fallen debris, perfect for cover. More rounds bombarded her shields, draining the energy cell to dangerous levels. She needed to make it up the small hill.

Ashley dug deep, stretching her legs and pulling all the energy she could muster to make the final sprint for her momentary release. Her breaths were short and ragged, more gasps than anything now. Almost there. Twenty more feet. Thirteen feet. She was almost there…and then she tripped, throwing her entire body stumbling forward.

_This is it. I'm gone._

Ashley waited for the end as she desperately tried to recover her stride. She waited for that dreadful noise that would tell her that her shields were drained and waited for that first searing hot pain of a round tearing through her armor. But it never came. She looked farther up the incline once she her back was firmly planted against the rock to see why she was still breathing. Barely. Running down towards her and catching the geth in a deadly cross-fire was the Alliance's onyx clad version of a guardian angel.

Reinforcements.

"Alenko! Flank left! Do not give them an opening!" barked a woman, as she laid down a cover fire for the Lieutenant. Ashley assumed that she was the one in command.

Ashley popped up from cover and took down one of the geth, white conductive fluid spraying from the machine as it crumpled to the ground, making this awful electronic shriek that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She watched as her two saviors made quick work of the others. The final geth left had only been damaged in one of the legs, and was pathetically dragging itself towards its fallen weapon that lay at the woman's feet. She allowed it to almost reach the rifle before kicking it away with a sneer. Ashley saw the woman mouth something inaudible before unholstering the pistol at her hip and emptying an entire clip into the geth's flashlight…head…thing.

Leaning up against the rocks that had just acted as her cover, Ashley allowed herself a sigh of relief, resisting the urge to clasp the thin gold cross that hung safely underneath her armor. It had been close. Too close. She gratefully nodded at the woman who had joined them.

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the 212. Are you the one in charge here, ma'am?"

"Commander Shepard. Are you wounded Williams?" she asked.

Ashley shook her head, "Just a few scrapes and bruises, ma'am. Nothing serious." She paused before continuing, still trying to catch her breath as the adrenaline ebbed away. "If it's not too presumptuous of me to ask, I'd like to join your team, Commander. The geth killed my entire squad, and I'm looking for some payback. Besides, a two man squad won't be enough to make it to the beacon."

She watched as a look of momentary pain flashed across the Commander's face. The man beside her visibly tensed, his jaw clenched tight. They had already suffered casualties.

"We'll need all the help we can get, Chief." Shepard agreed, her face returning to the composed features it was trained to be.

"Move out!"

/ - /

Everything was going as planned. Nihlus was only a small unforeseen variable. But the old turian was too trusting, too eager to let his guard down. The pistol felt heavy in his talons.

"Don't worry. I have it all under control."

A twitch of a muscle and a single shot rang through the air.

/ - /

The last of the geth crumpled to the ground, leaving the complex eerily quiet—the fabled After Battle Hush. Nearby, Shepard could hear the whisperings of a fire crackling as it burned through debris. There was no gun fire, no screams for help. There was just fire; muted, scorching fire. She exhaled, her nerves on high alert but her body physically exhausted. If anything could have gone wrong, it did. They had lost Jenkins, the overly enthusiastic Corporal with a zeal for military life, and Nihuls, the spectre sent to evaluate her abilities and to confirm her own candidacy for the exclusive group. The Council was going to have her head over this.

_Way to fuck up, Shepard._

Well, at least they had secured the beacon. That had to count for something.

She pressed a gloved hand to her earpiece. "Normandy, the beacon is secure. Requesting an immediate evac." Not that she particularly wanted to get back to the Captain any time soon. She had alot to answer for. There was going to be dozens of questions, and she was only going to have the answers to a few of them.

Joker's voice crackled in her ear, "Roger that, ground team. Just sit tight. Normandy is inbound."

Shepard turned to Ashley, about to ask her how she was coping with the loss of her team when she saw the beacon flare a bright fluorescent green…and start to drag her Lieutenant towards it. He fought back, digging his boots into the concrete, but there was a force stronger than he could manage to battle.

Shepard wasn't one of those people who had a _Fight or Flight_ mentality, the subconscious thought process that tells someone whether or not fighting or running away was more apt to ones survival. She had a _Fight or Fight_ mentality, so when faced with a situation where her subordinates were in danger, their lives came first. Always. So she didn't think, just did what her instincts told her to do.

She shoved past Ashley, racing towards her would-be-doomed crew member and grabbed him, throwing him at the ground and out of the beacon's invisible trajectory. What she hadn't quite expected was to be picked up off her feet and suspended in the air, hovering as if on a puppeteer's strings. Shepard struggled against the alien force, but to no avail. She was allowed a moment of clarity, a second or two to wonder what was going to happen next, before her head exploded with images.

A planet. Multiple planets. Entire solar systems. Burning. Colossal creatures. Machines. Giant starships.

An unbelievable pain shot from the base of her skull down her spine, then seemed to spread through her chest and to all of her extremities. It felt like someone was taking a scalpel and digging into her flesh. She tried to cry out, but she had no voice. She was filled with this feeling of undeniable defeat—a complete loss of hope. More images raced through her mind.

Death. Fire. Massive killings. Corpses everywhere. Genocide.

Shepard hadn't even heard the explosion. She felt herself slam into something hard and heard the alarmed voices of the other two soldiers, but something tugged at her mind and she slipped into a fitful unconsciousness, where her thoughts were plagued by horrific images of an existence she never knew.

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><p><strong> AN: <strong>So that wraps up Chapter Five. Truthfully, I loved Corporal Jenkins. Made me sad when he died...

As always, any criticsim is welcome. I have much to improve on and am far from perfect!


	6. Walking About

**AN: **Hope you guys are enjoying this. I truly enjoy writing it, so even if you didn't like it, I'd probably keep writing nonetheless. Haha.

More importantly, I hope you're liking the change in character. A nice change in pace, as I would like to see it. :)

- Tac

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><p><strong>Walking About<strong>

A rowdy chorus of laughter rose from a group of tables in Flux. The other customers glanced over, throwing dirty glares at the large mass of Alliance soldiers who didn't seem to care about the other occupants. One marine raised her glass, one of the engineers. She was somber, but gave a small smile as she looked around at all of her comrades, her eyes then falling on the only empty chair. On the table sat a glass filled to the brim with the finest asari ale an enlisted marine could afford, the only one that had yet to be topped off.

"To Jenkins. One of the best."

A hush came over all of them; a moment of silence to remember the fallen, before the rest followed suit.

"To Jenkins!"

_When the shuttle bay doors lowered, Anderson and Doctor Chakwas were waiting for the ground team, a look of disbelief betraying the Captain's usually stoic features. Kaidan was the first up the ramp into the engineering deck, an unconscious Shepard cradled in his arms. Chief Williams was close behind, carrying the Commander's helmet and weapons. Both looked worn out, Ashley like she was about to collapse on the floor._

_The doctor didn't waste any time. "Kaidan, follow me."_

_Kaidan could tell that Anderson wanted to ream them with questions, and so did Chakwas. "There will be time for a debrief later Captain, but the Commander's health takes precedence."_

_Anderson nodded, reluctant but in complete understanding. "Yes, of course."_

Kaidan silently watched the traditional send off, leaning up against the wall. The past twenty-four hours had been exhausting, mentally and physically. Jenkins death weighed heavily on all of them, finding hard to face that the young and boisterous Corporal was actually gone. The Normandy seemed quieter, empty. There were no words to describe the tension on the Normandy when the rest of the crew found out, made even worse when he no choice but to parade past the off-duty officers on the crew deck to get to the med-bay. The shocked gasps and hushed whispers hit home. They had screwed up. Bad.

He scanned the crowd for Shepard, but didn't see her among the blue uniforms. He frowned. She must have ducked out when nobody was paying attention. But when he looked towards the door, he caught a glimpse of her short red-blonde hair moving through the dancing groups of people. She nodded at the bouncer before leaving, disappearing around the corner, without so much as a glance behind towards her crew.

Kaidan fought against following after her, not wanting to give off any unintentional vibes. It wasn't that he was worried about her—well, he was, just not in the sense of being worried _about_her. It was complicated, this Superior-Subordinate relationship military life created within its ranks. Officers and their subordinates always formed some sort of connection, be it one of mutual respect or otherwise. Some kept their distance from the lower ranks, being there to command and command alone, while others, like Captain Anderson, created friendships among the entire crew while he served with them.

Kaidan's problem was that he didn't know what kind of officer Shepard was. He hadn't known her long enough to fit her into a category. She seemed amicable enough—in a professional way—but he had noticed that she was careful in her dealings with people; reserved, in some ways, as shown by her most recent 'abandonment' of post. This made it difficult for him to place his boundaries based upon where her own were.

He pushed the thoughts of Shepard out of his head as one of the crew brought attention to him, engaging the group in a retelling of the little mishap involving Jenkins during a biotics display that by the end had many of them doubled over in laughter, the alcohol allowing even some of the more reserved soldiers loosening up a bit.

Kaidan took it as his cue to leave when another round of drinks was being ordered and the stories became more lavish. He pushed through the warm crowds that seemed to shimmer in the dull blue light of the club. Turians, asari, humans, brought together in one place by drink and the low, rhythmic beat of the music. The first time he had seen something like this, he was surprised to see how similar aliens were to humans…or how similar humans were to aliens. A woman, cheeks flushed from dancing and in a very form-fitting, silvery dress, bumped into him, and upon seeing what she liked, placed two delicate hands on his chest, leaning in close.

"How about you and me go get a couple of drinks," she prompted, raising a finely sculpted eyebrow at him, giving him a coy smile. Kaidan heard cat calls and hollers sound from over by the tables where his crewmates were, quickly followed by laughter. He glanced behind to see a few of the men making hand gestures at him, ones that would seem to involve the woman currently in front of him.

"Sorry ma'am," he apologized, taking a step around her, "About to return to my post."

She pouted her bright red lips at him. "Shame." She didn't seem all that disappointed though, as she found another attractive man not too far away.

Walking out of the club where the drum beat was already thoroughly dulled, Kaidan was hit with a refreshing wall of cool air. He took a moment to roll out the tension that had settled in his shoulders and neck before slipping his hands into his pockets as he began to leisurely wander around the wards. Despite being so close to the club, there were remarkably few people out tonight, which Kaidan didn't overly mind. Not that anyone would have paid much attention to him anyway. The Alliance had become a common sight on the Citadel in the past decade, so the other races on the space station began to treat them as any other species.

Kaidan touched the console next to the elevator, waiting a few seconds before the doors slid open, a turian and asari pair exiting past him. The turian, scales deep red and face painted in an intricate white design, gave him a disgusted look, mandibles flaring. He paid him little attention as he stepped onto the elevator and the doors slid shut once again. That was another thing he was used to. Bigoted aliens. The glares weren't entirely frequent, but they did happen often enough to figure that you weren't wanted. The elevator lurched as it began its accent towards the Presidium. Humans weren't exactly a wanted quantity on the Citadel. Council races looked down upon them and those vying for a Council seat saw them as a threat, coming to usurp their chances. And the only thing more palpable than their dislike for humanity, was their distrust. That fact was certain; their cold dismissal of Shepard's claims against Saren brought that truth crashing down on them. Humans weren't trusted. Period. End of story.

The elevator stopped and he stepped out onto the darkened Presidium. He had to admit, it was his favorite part of the Citadel—of the parts that he had seen, at least. He liked the water the most, sort of reminded him of the lake back home on Earth. His way was lit by soft lights, not too bright or harsh. Did his migraine prone head alot of good.

He walked over one of the bridges, stopping in the middle to lean on the railing, gazing at the shifting reflections of the lights dance on the water. A light breeze, artificial of course, drifted lazily by, moving the leaves on the trees to sway with it. This was—wait, were those feet hanging from that tree?

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Please ignore my awful attempt at a cliffhanger. Thank you.

As always, criticsim is always welcome. I have much to improve on and am far from perfect!


	7. Hints

**AN: **A continuation of the previous chapter and that awful cliffhanger...if you could even call it that. Haha.

- Tac

* * *

><p><strong>Hints<strong>

Kaidan straighten himself and hesitantly paced up to one of the larger trees on the Presidium, craning his head in an odd fashion. Yes, those were most definitely feet, Alliance-issued boots with a reinforced toe, if he wasn't mistaken.

"Lieutenant?"

From his angle and the lack of light, he couldn't make out the face, but he could have recognized that voice anywhere.

Shepard dropped out of the tree with as much elegance as a three-legged cat. She tripped over her boots and stumbled forward with a small grunt, Kaidan moving to catch her by the shoulders, raising a perplexed eyebrow at her.

"Might want to be a bit more careful next time, ma'am," he said, "Or you could end up in the lake."

Kaidan watched as she straightened herself out, tugging her shirt back into place that had been wrenched in an awkward twist around her torso. He hadn't noticed how slim her waist was until now. From what Alliance fatigues revealed, she had the well-toned body of any soldier. She cleared her throat. Kaidan's eyes shot up to her face. Even in the dull light, the quiet amusement was apparent in her blue eyes. Damn it. He hadn't realized he'd been staring. What the hell was coming over him?

If Shepard had noticed, which he was fairly certain that she had, she didn't let him know, "I do believe that is the second time you've save my life, Lieutenant."

"Think nothing of it, ma'am."

She shook her head, "But I do." Spreading her arms wide, she asked, "I mean, look at me." Kaidan did his best not to, "I'm not the most delicate flower. And you carried my sorry ass all the way back to the Normandy, as dead weight. That deserves some sort of thanks."

Kaidan shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Was this where he insisted that he was just performing his assigned duty, or accepted the appreciation? Would she press the issue until he agreed? He looked at her again; her head was tilted slightly to one side, staring at him with those bright cerulean eyes. Kaidan inwardly hit himself. He had taken too long to think again.

"Uh, thank you, but I was only doing what was warranted at the time." Good Alenko, a little bit of both. Play it safe.

She chuckled, dismissing his stubbornness to take a compliment. "Well," She started, leaning up against the tree she had basically just fallen out of, "Care to tell me why you're out wandering the Presidium at this hour?" Something about her stance told Kaidan she wasn't being entirely serious in her questioning. It was strange, really. A sense of humor wasn't something that he had expected.

"Just taking a walk around the lake, ma'am."

She nodded, agreeing. "It is quite nice up here. Quiet, peaceful almost."

A silence settled between the two soldiers, one that made him fidget ever so slightly, trying to tactfully look around, as if a conversation starter was going to be growing in one of the nearby gardens. He'd kiss the next alien he saw if they had managed to invent that. Be awfully damned helpful right now. "If you don't mind me asking, why were you sitting in a tree?" _Yeah, ask her why she was in a tree…_

She was about to answer when her eyebrows suddenly pinched together in the middle, making her hesitate in her response. Kaidan knew that sign all too well, as slight as it was.

"How bad is it?"

Her face went blank, "What do you mean?"

Kaidan tapped a finger against his forehead, "The headache, ma'am. I know one when I see one."

She remained silent; thoughtfully biting her lip with a canine, meeting his level gaze. "I'm fine," she lied, even throwing in a slight smile. "It's really not all that bad, considering that I got my brain scrambled." She made it sound like she had been the victim of a harmless prank, a touch of humorous cynicism in her words.

He winced. If Shepard was having headaches, and he knew for certain that she was, it was from the visions she had told them about. And those visions were caused by that damned beacon, which she had to save him from. The whole situation did horrible things to his pride. He didn't think he would ever forget how…scared she looked for that brief moment in the med-bay. He couldn't imagine what it took for a woman of her integrity to be shaken like that. "Commander, I—"

She held up a hand, "Lieutenant, we've been over this. I don't blame you for what happened, and it's about time that you stop beating yourself up over it." Her words did little to ease the guilt he felt, though he was surprised she picked up on it so easily. It didn't change the fact that she looked too pale, seemed too shaken to be just 'fine.' She sighed, pushing herself off of the vegetation and pacing over to the bridge, motioning for him to follow, which he did dutifully, standing to the left of her.

"Guilt is an awful thing," she said, resting her arms against the paling, eyes drifting towards the relay that stood tall in the water, "It starts off small and insignificant, just a nagging little feeling. But if left unchecked, it will grow to a monstrous size and before you know it, swallow you whole. And at that point, you can kick and punch all you want, but it has you in it's vice grip, and there's no getting out of it."

Her entire stature changed, like this invisible force was weighing down her shoulders. "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

Shepard shrugged, glancing at him before returning her gaze to the statue. Kaidan didn't think she saw any specific importance in it. It was just something to look at. "Don't we all? We carry our own scars, our own burdens. This effects how we act. How we act effects how others view us, and it just keeps going; a vicious circle of cause and effect, forever out of reach of simple meddling."

"Shit happens." She continued, "We can't change that. All we can do is deal with the hand that we were dealt. We do our damnedest to keep a poker face free of any tells, because we know the second the dealer figures it out, we'll be scrambling to do something with the cards we already have before he gives us a hand that we can't do a thing with."

She faced him, brushing red strands from her face with a frown. "So concerning today, we were just dealing with the cards that were given to us. Mind you, we didn't cash out, but the dealer hasn't completely cleaned us out yet either. We live to see another day, to fight another fight."

He thought for a moment, and decided he'd step out on a limb. He had a hunch…

"Y'know Commander, none of the crew blames you for what happened back on Eden Prime." He saw her shoulders tense, her usually proud gaze dropping to the shimmering water below.

_I knew it._

"You did everything right, it was just bad luck." He assured her, feeling rather lame for blaming it on luck. But what else could he do? Saren was still a Spectre in the eyes of the Council, and they wouldn't let him take the fall for the destruction of the colony if they could help it. Hell, bureaucrats were much more willing to shift all concerns to the incompetency of the human race for settling on the borders of the Terminus System. Not to mention that the name 'Saren' was bound to set Shepard off on a tangent. She had a score to settle with that turian, that much was obvious.

He heard her exhale; slow, deliberate, perhaps even cautious.

_She doesn't believe her own words._

"I've never lost someone under my command, at least not to hostile action. And you never get used to seeing dead civilians. It just doesn't seem right." She flashed him a look of Is-There-A-Point-To-All-Of-This? The way he had started was probably just throwing oil onto the fire. He determined it best to skip the big pep talk he had going in his head and just get to the end, "The truth is, without you, things would have been alot worse."

That got her attention. Arms crossed, she turned once again to face him, head tilted ever so slightly as she met his gaze. It caused that strange sensation to return in his chest.

"Couldn't have done it without you, Lieutenant." She said, the Commander Shepard he had first met on the Normandy only days before, the one brimming with experience and a natural self-assurance, suddenly returning before his eyes, like flipping a light switch. If there had been any sign of her own self-doubt, there wasn't any now.

She rubbed the back of her neck as she checked the time on her omni-tool. "Well, it's actually getting pretty late. There are a few things I need to check up on before calling it a night."

"Of course, ma'am."

With a nod, she began to walk back towards the C-Sec Academy, but only after a few feet, she stopped. Kaidan half expected her to say something else, but a second more and she continued on her path and quickly disappeared into the darkness.

Now alone, he returned to the tree where he had spotted her in the first place that night, looking up through the emerald covered branches gently swaying with the breeze. He was stuck with this feeling of having just dealt with two different woman; one whom he could easily distinguish as his commanding officer, but the other? The other Shepard… From what he had seen, she was typically a reserved individual, so her behavior was totally unexpected.

He laughed bitterly as he felt the first twinges of a migraine. That woman caused more questions than answers.

And he knew that it wasn't about to get any simpler.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>As always, criticsim is always welcome. I have much to improve on and am far from perfect!


	8. Nothing But Red Tape

**AN: **I'm assuming that from the chapter title, you can guess who's up next. ;)

- Tac

* * *

><p><strong>Nothing But Red Tape<strong>

He had been close, so damn close. He had leads that were almost to fruition, information that would have lead him to something other than classified documents and dead ends. And then the Council caught up with him. Brought his investigation into Saren to a screeching halt, rushing to cover up what little he had found and bury it under as much bureaucratic red tape that they could possibly manage to throw at him. And that human's testimony, the one from the Alliance—what was her name again? Sheldon? Shelly? Anyway, her account against the Spectre was given absolutely no credence within the courts of the Council. Eye-witnesses were deemed unfit or unworthy. Past relations between the human Captain and Saren made their argument seem little more than a revenge tactic from a bitter, life-long feud. They dismissed her claims with little thought.

"Executor Pallin, convince the Council that I just need a bit more time. If they can grant me that, I have a few leads that will—"

"Officer Vakarian, do you truly believe that the Council will grant you permission to gather evidence against their top agent? Evidence that would be circumstantial at best?" Garrus felt himself struggling to keep the burning anger controlled deep within his chest. He clenched his hands by his side. It took all of his accumulated military training not to lash out at his superior.

"It would not be circumstantial," he argued, mandibles twitching with restrained frustration. Nothing irritated him more than when the Executor doubted his abilities. "I can get solid, infallible evidence against Saren. He's hiding something! You have to be able to see that!"

"What I see is an officer who refuses to let this go. How many times must I say this; your investigation is over. Leave it be."

"But the human—!"

"The human's absurd claims were nothing but lies based loosely on bad blood and bad dreams!" Snapped the Executor, quickly regaining his lost composure before fixing Garrus with a hard, threatening gaze, his plates itching with annoyance beneath the light armor he wore. His next words were spoken with a sickening finality to them, each one their own threat. "You will _not_ continue this investigation."

Garrus debated whether or not he should push the issue. It would have been worth it if his superior officer wasn't so obviously ignoring the facts, but he knew a futile situation when he saw one, and he had been staring this one in the face for the past twenty minutes.

"Understood, sir." He said with forced submission.

The Executor eyed him with a cautious glare before nodding. Garrus knew that the Executor didn't believe a word he said—specifically his agreement to drop the case, but suspicion was well placed. Garrus was _not _about to be humiliated without a fight. Not if he could do something about it.

His superior officer waved a hand at him, busying himself with something on his desk. "Dismissed."

That was how Garrus figured he ended up here, crouched beneath a dividing wall in a small medical clinic in the deep within the wards of the Citadel; clearly out-numbered, out maneuvered, and just about damn near out of luck; denied by his superiors and forced to get his hands dirty. He hated having to stoop so low as to ask for help from _Harkin_, the drunken C-Sec officer who did nothing but mar the name of the Citadel Security and humans alike. Harkin's information had been valid, yes, but Garrus could still felt the bitter resentment lodged in his chest of having to ask the bastard. Had his father known what he had done—No. He pushed the thought from his head. _Best not think about that now._ He needn't remind himself of his father's abhorrence of those who ignored the chain of command. Garrus hated to think of the complete look of disappointment that would be etched into the features of his father's face should he find out. It was one that he was very familiar with. _No wonder the Executor and my father have always gotten along._ Garrus had heard that too many times. Why can't you be more like your father? Your father knew how to get the job done without stirring anything up. Your father this, your father that. He'd been raised in the shadow of his father; forced into a job he never wanted, dealing with people he absolutely hated.

A prime example? The bastards right around the dividing wall he was hiding behind. They were some of Fist's goons, and they had Chloe, the young doctor who owned the clinic. She was an informant and a known entity among the crime lords that scurried in the alleyways. She would tell the C-Sec officers whatever information she could get from the thugs that she patched up, always making sure to drug them up a bit with painkillers before asking questions. The gangsters were too much in a medically induced haze to know any better and they would typically spill their guts. Garrus knew that Chloe was one of their better informants, reliable and ready to take risks, but now all of that had caught up to her. Fist could feel the pressure being laid on by whoever he answered to. He was getting paranoid, worrying that the wrong people leaked the right information and put _his_ ass on the line.

Garrus couldn't see what was going on, but he heard Chloe's quiet whimpers beneath the threatening tones of the men.

"I didn't tell anyone, I swear!" She choked out the terrified words.

He tensed, hands tightening around his pistol. They were too close to the doctor. If he tried to take the shot, he risked hitting her. Damn it! He hated feeling so helpless…

The doors behind him swung open and an armored woman strode in, accompanied by two others, a male and a female, equally as equipped as the woman who lead them. Her was pistol drawn, aimed at the armed men.

"Let her go!" she demanded, her voice commanding the attention of the thugs.

Garrus saw his chance. He spun out of cover and trained his sights on the man who had grabbed the doctor to act as a human shield. _Cheap bastard._ He pulled the trigger a second later, felt the gun kick back in his hands, and heard the satisfying _shunck_ as the round buried itself into the head of Chloe's captor, spraying gore over the frightened doctor. She let out a terrified squeak as the man crumpled to the floor.

Garrus could feel the rising tension in the air on his plates, that split second of peace before everything went to hell. He dashed over to the trembling woman, taking her into his arms and acting as a shield as the small clinic exploded with gun fire, the rest of Fist's men attacking for the loss of one of their own. He rushed her over to a corner where medical supplies sat unused in crates, feeling misplaced rounds bounce off of his shields, the blue field shimmering in response. The small woman quivered against his armor, trying to hold back the sobs that shook her entire body.

"Are you okay, Dr. Michel?" asked Garrus, unable to see if she were injured in any way with her pressed up against him. She nodded, unable to find her voice.

"It's alright," he said, trying to sooth the frightened doctor, "Things are alright. They can't hurt you now."

She nodded again, sniffling, trying to wipe the tears away from her face but only succeeding in smearing the dead merc's blood on her cheeks.

"I was so certain that I was going to die," she said, her voice barely a whisper, muffled against his chest, "I was so sure."

"Hello?"

Chloe perked up when she heard the voice, taking a step from him and taking a deep breath to steady herself. Garrus listened. No more gunfire. He hadn't even realized that it had stopped, being so preoccupied with the safety of the doctor. He poked his head around the crate. There hadn't been any female gangsters among those that he saw when he first entered this clinic, but he had to be sure. Standing over the corpse of a dead human was the Alliance soldier who had petitioned the Council for the removal of Saren. Shepard was her name, now that he really thought about it. What was she doing here?

He watched as she rolled over the body with her foot, scrutinizing the face with a frown and a hand on her hip.

"Yup, he's dead alright. Damn it, I needed to know what his boss had to do with all of this."

Sighing, she holstered her weapon and fixed a blue gaze on Garrus. He saw a flash of surprise cross her features.

"You're that C-Sec officer, Garrus Vakarian. The one that was investigating Saren." Garrus was surprised himself. Most humans couldn't tell one turian from another, let alone remember said turain's name.

"Perfect timing. Gave me a clear shot at that bastard." He said, clipping his pistol back into its holster on his belt. Looking back up, he saw disapproval written on her face, her brow pinched.

"What were you thinking? You could have hit the hostage!"

_Wait, what?_ Was she _scolding_ him? Who did this woman think she was?

"There wasn't time to think. I just reacted. I didn't mean to—" Garrus stopped. Why was he trying to explain himself to her? It wasn't like she was the Executor or his father, where he needed to justify just about everything to them. Why he pounded the accused face in. Why he was a day late turning in his reports. Why he needed to breathe, because you know, great C-Sec officers don't need to do that.

Shepard turned to Dr. Michel, her face concerned, her voice forceful, but sympathetic. "I know these men threatened you, but if you tell us who they worked for, we can protect you." Garrus couldn't believe it. Surprise. Dissatisfaction. Concern. Did all humans flip-flop between emotions so frequently?

"They work for Fist. They wanted to shut me up, keep me from telling Garrus about the quarian." She looked over her shoulder, nervously wringing her hands together.

"A quarian?"

"Yes. I patched her up after she had been shot." Explained Chloe. "She wouldn't tell me who did it, but she was nervous, scared, probably on the run. She said that she had information for the Shadow Broker in exchange for a safe place to hide." She glanced at Garrus with bright green eyes, looking ashamed. "I put her in contact with Fist. He's an agent for the Shadow Broker."

"Not anymore," interrupted Garrus, "Now he works for Saren, and the Shadow Broker isn't too happy about it."

Shepard nodded, looking like she was starting to piece everything together. She was quick on her feet, Garrus would give her that.

"So that quarian must have something Saren wants." Garrus continued, "Something worth crossing the Shadow Broker to get."

Shepard beat a fist into her other hand. "That quarian must have evidence that proves he's a traitor."

"Something that links him to the geth and Eden Prime! There is no way the Council can ignore this!" Garrus said, chastising himself for getting too excited. But how could he help it? This was the break both of them needed.

Shepard smiled. "My thoughts exactly." She turned to her two companions. The male, Garrus placed him somewhere in his early thirties, was quiet and composed, and the utmost respect he had for his commanding officer was obvious. The other woman, probably late twenties and dressed in this outlandish pink and white armor, wasn't really listening to what her commander had to say. In fact, she had an untrustworthy glare fixed right on him. _Oh, she's one of _those _types_. Garrus could tell the sort instantly. The humans who distrusted turians for the sake of being turians. He had dealt with enough of them in his C-Sec endeavors. "I think it's time we pay Fist a visit."

A thought hit Garrus. He had come this far disobeying a direct order from the higher-ups, why not see it all the way through? Besides, he wasn't one to leave a job half done. "This is your show Shepard, I know that, but I want to bring Saren down as much as you do. I'm coming with you!"

Shepard blinked, her eyes widening in surprise. Garrus cringed. Perhaps he had come off too strong. She was probably going to deny him his request—er, demand. What use would she have for him? Nothing really, from the look of her heavily armed companions. If he saw correctly during the firefight, the male was a biotic. Hell, not to mention she was Alliance. If she was far enough up her chain of command, she could probably get all the resources she possibly needed. He waited for her response, preparing an argument in his head for when she refused.

"Sure. Welcome aboard."

Did she just say yes? Without any thought at all? Not that he was complaining or anything, but she agreed?

"Commander, think about this…" protested the pink clad soldier next to her, "He's a turian—"

Shepard held up a hand, silencing her. "We need all the help we can get. Besides, I think we can trust him."

"Next you'll want to bring that krogan along."

Krogan? "Wait, are you talking about Wrex?" Shepard raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Big guy, even for a krogan. Bounty hunter. Scar across his face, dark red plates."

"We met him at Chora's Den." Explained the man beside her. Shepard nodded. So he could talk. Garrus had thought him to be the silent type, wordlessly going where he was sent. Still, he seemed to be a man a few words.

"He's after Fist too."

That put a smile on her face. "Seems like Fist is quite the popular man around here." She turned towards the woman. "Williams, return to the Normandy for now. And give Captain Anderson an update on what's going on."

"Aye aye, ma'am." Garrus could hear the more than familiar tone of resignation in her voice. It had been the same sound reflected in his own voice on more than one occasion when dealing with the Executor. He watched as she snapped a salute and before she turned to leave the clinic, she threw a menacing glare his way, sending a cold sensation down through his plates. It said what she couldn't.

_Mess with my Commander and it'll be my boot up your ass._

No arguments there. He and Shepard had the same goals, and for the most part, she seemed like a respectable woman.

Shepard turned her blue gaze back on him, jerking her head towards the door as she spun on her heel, leading the way. "And you can come with us."

"Let's go make nice with a krogan."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> As always, criticsim is welcome. I have much to improve on and am far from perfect!


	9. Objections

**AN: **And Ashley's up. Yes, I know it's been a while since Shepard's spoken. When I first started writing this, I was getting a bit too much into the changing of the characters, but it's something that I seemed to have balance out as I began to add more chapters. So fear not, Shepard will be back soon.

Thanks for the support and feedback, but more importantly, I'm happy that you guys are enjoying reading this.

- Tac

* * *

><p><strong>Objections<strong>

Ashley strode across the bridge, frustration causing her boots to hit the tiles with more force than she would have planned as she neared the embassy; a vice grip tightened around her holstered pistol. What was the skipper thinking? A turian? This was the Alliance, not some catch-all of C-Sec dropouts who couldn't play by the rules. And how could they even trust him? If he had such disregard for his own chain of command, what was stopping him from trampling all over theirs? Absolutely nothing; and that made her a little more than uneasy. Why couldn't the Commander see that mess just waiting to happen?

She passed a translucent aqua form of the Citadel's VI. Damn it. Having to chase all these leads while that smug turian ran around with his geth troops was a needless waste of time. Lieutenant Alenko had said that that was politics. Well, screw politics. Anything that kept good people from just doing their god-given job was placed on her black list, and black listed members didn't have a long life-span. She longed for nothing more than to be able drill that damned turian councilor right between the eyes. How the Commander was able to remain composed as the Council mercilessly tore her and her testimony apart was beyond Ashley. It was obvious that Shepard had a certain amount of tact when it came to the political battlefield, but a swallowed pride could only get them so far, and she was sick of seeing the Commander bend over and take it from the alien Council. The line had to be drawn somewhere, and enough was enough.

God, she hated politics.

She wordlessly passed the asari receptionist, taking a right up the stairs and passing through to the small lobby just outside the human embassy office. She paused for a moment, attempting to curb the irritation sitting in her chest and noticing for the first time the loose strands of dark brown hair that had fallen from her bun. She worked at tucking them back into their proper place, but the pesky wisps had other plans and refused to cooperate. Pulling off her gloves and tossing them on a nearby bench, Ashley pulled her hair out of the bun; now a messy doppelganger compared to its usually pristine counterpart, her brown hair falling to frame her shoulders. She ran her hands through the locks, capturing all possible runaways and pulling them into line, then twisting the collective into a tidy bun resting on the back of her head. She checked her work against the glossy door to the office, a wonky and misshapen reflection returning her dark gaze. Everything was in place; perfection. Good.

Grabbing her gloves, Ashley entered the office, finding Anderson leaning on the railing overlooking the Presidium. He turned to face her upon her entry. She snapped a salute, clicking her heels together.

"Captain Anderson."

He returned the gesture, before placing them comfortably behind his back. This seemed to be his preferred stance. "Chief Williams, I thought that was you coming across the bridge. I trust everything is alright?"

She nodded, though not completely agreeing that _alright_ was a proper word to describe the situation. Yes, things weren't exploding. Chaos hadn't erupted—yet. But things were far from being just _alright._ "Yes sir, Commander Shepard sent me back to give you an update of our findings."

"So it's just her and Lieutenant Alenko now?"

The corner of her mouth twitched, "No, not exactly. A turian C-Sec officer is with them now."

"Garrus Vakarian?"

"Yes sir."

Anderson nodded thoughtfully, his mind seemingly focused on other matters unknown to her. "Good. He's a good officer with strong morals."  
>Good? The only good she could see coming from that was Saren being violently torn from his seat of untouchable power. Which was okay, she guessed, Ashley just wished it didn't mean having to ask for help from the aliens. Humanity needed to realize that, out here, they were on their own, and the other races were not about to stop pushing them around until humans stood up for themselves. They were the new kids on the playground, and no amount of ass kissing was going to elevate them from that status. They needed to show them their teeth by kneeing the next bully in the crotch—i.e. Saren.<p>

"How goes the investigation? Do we have anything tangible that could prove Saren's traitorous nature?" Anderson was just as eager to give the turian a swift Alliance kick where it hurt the most as the rest of them. He had alluded earlier to having a history with the Spectre and that history—whatever it was—appeared to give him enough reason to warrant this investigation, despite the Council's adamant support for their enemy.

"Things are…well sir, things could be better." Ashley explained, starting to slowly pace an imaginary line, something she frequently did when trying to find the right words to say. That saying, 'Actions speak louder than words?' Well, that was her. Words were meaningless unless accompanied by action, and frankly, she sucked with words. "We're making progress, but whatever ground we cover seems to be countered by more walls and lies. There's always an obstacle to get around."

"Did you go to see Harkin?"

"No sir." She couldn't hide the grin that was pulling at her lips, "Commander Shepard thought that she wouldn't be able to hold back in beating the bastard, so she opted a different route. We took your suggestion and went to Barla Von in the financial district."

"And how much did his information cost?" He sounded hesitant to hear the amount as he turned to look back out over the palling. Everyone knew that if it was information you needed, you had to be willing to pay the price; the more sensitive the material, the greater the price and the more strings that were attached. Information on Saren or anyone connected to him would levy a hefty fee—usually.

"Not a single credit, sir. The volus gave it to us gratis."

He faced her, mellowed surprised etched in his weathered face. "Gratis? What was the catch?"

Ashley shrugged. "No catch. He said that Saren and some of his lackeys had double-crossed the Shadow Broker, and the Broker was out to make sure—"

A muted beep from Anderson's console interrupted her. He crossed over and pulled up the message. Quiet anticipation replaced the silence as Ashley waited.

"Shepard, what are you planning?"

Her curiosity piqued, Ashley resisted the urge to ask what the message was about. Had their search finally turned up something useful? It would be about damn time.

Anderson noticed the unasked question. "Seems like our XO is testing the boundaries of how far the Alliance will go to bring Saren down." He indicated his console, "She's sent a request for a temporary transfer for Garrus Vakarian to the Normandy crew, along with a krogan and a quarian."

What? Did she hear the captain correctly? Temporary transfer? Asking help from the alien races to find sufficient evidence to convict the turian bastard was one thing, but transferring them to an Alliance ship? And one so sophisticated and classified as the Normandy? Hell would freeze over first.

"Permission to speak candidly, Captain?" Anderson eyed her carefully before nodding. A dangerous agreement. A lesson that a superior officer learned quickly was that when a subordinate asked to speak freely, it was tempting a risky situation with someone who—more often than not—strongly disagreed with your decision. This time wasn't different.

"I hope that you aren't planning on giving an affirmative to that request. It's asinine! Aliens on a highly classified Alliance ship? Think of the future repercussions! Garrus can't follow his own superior's orders. What makes us think that he'll follow yours? That krogan the Commander mentioned? He's a gun-for-hire. A low-life mercenary who's probably only loyal to his next paycheck."

And when did the Commander pick up a quarian? It could be the one that the doctor from the clinic mentioned, and if that was the case, then chances are that they now had solid proof that linked Saren to the geth. Even so, having the evidence didn't warrant a free pass to go poke around the ship.

"Chief, I understand you concerns, and had it been anyone else requesting the transfer I would be hesitant in approving it, but I trust the Commander's judgment of character. If she wants Garrus, the krogan, and the quarian on our crew, then she must have a good reason for it. Shepard doesn't do something just for the sake of doing it." He said reasonably.

"But Captain, the Alliance will never—"

"The Alliance gave me full command of who is or is not on this crew. Each and every one of you were hand-picked for this mission. And that includes you, Williams. I would not have kept you on the ship had I thought that you weren't right for the task."

Ashley bit down on her tongue to keep herself from saying anything else, tasting the metallic tang of blood. There was a fine line between a respectful disagreement with your superior and outright disrespect. She didn't feel like walking the line of insubordination.

"Understood, Captain." The compliment from him made her obvious disappointment bearable. She saluted him once more. "I guess I'll take my leave to the ship then."

"Commander Shepard and the others are returning to the embassy. You might want to stick around and see what they've found."

Ashley nodded in agreement, moving over to the balcony. The view was indeed gorgeous, the greater expanse of the Presidium lake visible from this height. It almost reminded her of home. Fun-filled summers spent at the lake with her sisters and mother, her dad scooping her up as she giggled and tossing her into the shimmering water beneath. Poetry read to them at night before she was tucked in. Secrets shared between them. Her father's warm smile and comforting embrace.

The fond memory was shattered when she focused on the people below, seeing that many of them were not human. She didn't like the idea of non-humans on the ship, but if Shepard trusted them, then she guessed that, to some extent, she did too.

But only because of the Commander.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>As always, criticsim is welcome. I have much to improve on and am far from perfect!


	10. For The Greater Good

**AN: **And finally: our beloved Admiral Anderson...well, Captain here. I actually found that I love writing Anderson. It's just something about him. Maybe it's because I just love the role he plays when supporting Shepard. Kind of like a father figure...

Anyway, enjoy!

- Tac

* * *

><p><strong>For The Greater Good<strong>

"Give the Commander my congratulations," said the raspy voice from Anderson's console, "And Anderson… I'm sorry that I couldn't get them to let you keep your posting on the Normandy. The other admirals refused to entertain the idea."

"I understand. Shepard's a Spectre now, and needs a good ship and crew to bring Saren down. The Normandy is what she needs." What Anderson said was true. Now that the Commander was a Spectre, she was under Council jurisdiction; no longer under Alliance control and no longer taking orders from the human leaders and far from human concerns. But if that was how the Council expected it to play out, they were sorely mistaken. Shepard wouldn't even entertain such an idea should it be posed to her. And with that Anderson felt a small surge of pride and respect for the young officer. Shepard was—in heart and mind, in blood and sweat, in every curse and adrenaline-fueled outburst on the battlefield—an Alliance soldier.

This was why none of them had told her yet. If anything, it was out of pure fear that once they _did_ tell her that he was being stripped of the control of the Normandy and it was being handed right over to her, she would march straight into the Council chambers—knuckles cracked and pistol drawn and sights dangerously lined with the turian councilor's head—demanding Anderson's position be returned to him. Granted, Anderson would love to see the look on their faces. Would have _paid_ to see the look on their faces. Hell, he would have even brought the Commander out for drinks after.

But that was poor etiquette on his account.

"I'd feel better if it were under different circumstances." Hackett said. He was a man of strong integrity—a perfect balance of a strong, authoritative hand and the compassion of understanding—and hated nothing more than to see his soldiers trodden on, kicked in the dirt while they were down, and slapped with regulations when regulations were meant to be bent.

Anderson understood that feeling. He understood it all too damn well.

"We all would, Admiral."

There was a pause. Muffled voices; a woman speaking, a gruff sound of disapproval.

"Captain, I'm sorry to cut this short. My presence is required elsewhere. These mercenaries will never learn." He added in that last part with a tired huff.

He had a point. The mercs out in the Terminus Systems were far from the brightest of the bunch, at least, nothing compared to the groups in the Skyllian Verge. They weren't even on the same scale as them. One would figure that, after a while, the Terminus mercs would stop throwing themselves at the impenetrable wall of the Fifth Fleet. All it accomplished was giving the Alliance some target practice on poor, unsuspecting human fodder and cause the mercenaries to hire more inexperienced recruits, which then fed into seemingly endless cycle of casualties on the enemy side. It was humorous at first, a funny quality (if one could call it that) to the ease of their defeat. Now it had been whittled down into plain annoyance; an irritating thorn in Hackett's side, wasting precious resources and time.

Anderson understood all too well.

"Of course, Admiral. Best of luck."

Anderson heard something that he would dare say passed for a chuckle before the transmission ended with a definitive beep. Alone in the embassy room, Anderson collapsed into the chair behind him, unbuttoning the top buttons around his neck on his dress blues, wrenching the collar open in an effort to combat the hot, heavy air that assaulted him.

Shepard's team of misfits—what else was he supposed to call them?—had retired to the confines of the Normandy. The Commander herself had made a stop at the armory in the lower levels of C-Sec tower to pick up a few things before she joined them. He doubted that she ever passed up the chance to upgrade her gear, especially when the tab was being picked up by someone else.

He rubbed a weary hand over his face and leaned back in the chair, it protesting quietly with the change in tilt.

None of them were aware of what was about to hit them.

_He found himself at a comfortable parade rest, hands tucked behind his back, begrudgingly waiting for Udina to speak, knowing that if even so much as cleared his throat in annoyance, the ambassador would win. The frustrating man had had him standing there for the past fifteen minutes, doing whatever he was willed with that irritating little console on his desk, making small grunts of disapproval. He tsked once, cursed under his breath the next, and finished it all off with a sneer glance over the top of the holo screen before busying himself once again._

_Beating politicians is frowned upon._

_Anderson repeated the mantra over and over, flexing his fists invisible to the politician. The man had no idea how close he teetered on the fine line between control and warranted assault. And he had been treading it since the unfortunate day Anderson had to cooperate with him. Udina looked up again and did nothing. Anderson let out a controlled breath._

_Beating politicians is _extremely_ frowned upon._

_He tsked again, absently poking at keys. He was wasting time on purpose. He knew how much it irritated Anderson. Udina had no idea how close he was to that line…Another look, accompanied by a smug grin._

"_Captain Anderson," he drug out his title and name in that awful accent, "I hadn't noticed you." Damn it, he was going to beat that smug face of his in._

_Another controlled breath._

"_You asked for me?" Fists clenched behind his back, pale knuckles. _

_Don't beat the man._

"_Ah yes," Udina pushed away from the desk and stood, finally leaving that silly console alone, "It's about Shepard. The Normandy, to be precise."_

_Anderson could feel that unmistakable shit storm brewing, and he was caught right in the eye of it. Damn it, he hated dealing with Udina._

"_Let me put it to you straight, Captain. Shepard is now a Spectre. She answers to the Council now. As her authority is unmatched to everyone except the Council themselves, it must also be that way upon her ship and with her crew." He faced him, and Anderson could see the plot as clear as day in the man's eyes._

"_As of now, all control of the Normandy and her crew has been given to Commander Shepard. The ship is her own to do what she and the Council's wills. You two cannot be vying for the crew's obedience."_

Anderson didn't like it. Not for the sake of Shepard taking control of the ship—she was an experienced enough leader to say the least—but for the sake of the circumstances. He was caught in a political backlash, with no strategy, no tactical fallback, and no way to stop the floodgates. He was grounded, whether he liked it or not.

The irritating device on the desk beeped at him. He wished that the silly thing would stay quiet for once.

"Anderson."

And the exact person he didn't want to speak to. Having to swallow his pride each and every time he spoke with Udina was detrimental to his health, he was certain of it.

"What is it, Ambassador?"

"Shepard has finished picking up the supplies she needed and is on route to the Normandy. I plan to be there _before_ she is." And it cut off. That man was only one for pleasantries when it best suited him. He was a parasite, a damned leech. And the ambassador relished in every moment of it.

Anderson desperately wanted to beat the hell out of that man.

/ - /

"With all due respect, but what the hell?"

Well, it was a better reaction than he had expected.

"I want the truth. Why are you stepping down, sir?" Shepard crossed her arms, very expectant. There was no fooling her. Not Shepard. Not with this. But he was going to at least try, as idiotic as it was.

"You needed your own ship. A Spectre can only answer to the Council, and it was time for me to step down." He sounded like he was quoting his earlier conversation with Udina. It made him internally grimace.

"Like hell it is, Captain." He saw her throw an accusing glare at Udina, who shrunk back ever so slightly, much to his own amusement, before she turned it back on him, animosity gone and replaced with simple respect and the need for an answer. "Come clean with me. You own me that much."

He had wanted to avoid this, but it was obvious Shepard wasn't about to let it go. And she did have a point. He couldn't keep this from her; not after everything. Not after Elysium.

Already, he could see the quiet calculation gleam in her eye as she tried to muddle through all the possibilities.

"I was in your shoes twenty years ago, Shepard." He sighed, ashamed for his past mistakes, ashamed for keeping it from Shepard, the one officer that he knew that could handle this. But he made no attempt to hide it. He couldn't fall any lower on the 'self-disappointment,' than he was now. "They were considering me for the Spectres."

A flash of muted surprise; the quick one-two blink of her eyes, a slight twitch of her brow that she stopped from furrowing. He'd learn to read little signs like that., and as much as Shepard thought she was an unreadable façade, she was far from it when faced with a senior officer who had been around the block a few times.

He did, though, hear the distinct sound of betrayal in her voice, jaw set. "Why didn't you ever mention this? You should have told me!"

His own flavor of betrayal burned anew in his chest, a feeling that he had thought to have been dealt with long ago. "What was I supposed to say? I could have been a Spectre but I blew it?" He did. He screwed up bad, and lost almost everything, "I failed Commander. It's not something I'm proud of."

Another flash. This one of complete understanding. It softened her hard gaze; miniscule, but it was there. She could relate to the feeling.

It was one of the few large blemishes on his records…the classified ones, at least. A mission gone wrong, that turian doing everything in his power to make sure Anderson didn't succeed. So many civilian casualties. The convenient death of the one witness that would have exonerated him of Saren's charges.

Shepard had obvious questions. She always had questions. Everything about it screamed wrong, and she picked right up on that.

"Ask me about the details later." He said, waving her off. "All you need to know is that I was sent on a mission with Saren and he made sure that the Council rejected me."

She looked speechless for once. Perhaps it was the odd feeling of déjà vu she was experiencing. Or maybe she really didn't know what to say. He found the latter to be unlikely. "Captain, I—"

He shook his head. "I had my shot. It came and went. Now it's up to you, Commander."

Comprehending what he meant, Shepard straightened, her heels snapping together as she flicked a salute. "Aye aye, sir."

"We'll bring Saren down. I swear it."

/ - /

He wasn't about to deny that sense of abandonment that settled uncomfortably in his chest—edging out the old resentment from his earlier conversation—when he watched the Normandy take off without him, the sleek finish causing a ripple in the violet shield that protected this portion of the docking bay.

It hurt. It hurt like a blunt punch to the gut. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been on board a cruiser or frigate for an extended period of time, or hadn't flown through the endless, twinkling expanse that surrounded them.

He'd miss it.

He had grown attached to that magnificent ship in the short amount of time he had spent with it. He had grown attached to his crew. Hell, he picked them himself, so why wouldn't he? Joker, Alenko, Pressly, Shepard; all of them. Each person on that ship had something special to add to the crew to make it run like a well-oiled machine, better than that, in fact. The Normandy was meant to run better than anyone had ever seen.

She's do the Commander and the crew justice.

He'd still miss it.

Such sacrifices were needed to be made. A sacrifice for the greater good, really, as small as it was.

He wasn't so conceded to think that by him not being there, he was giving up so much for the sake of the galaxy. He was, in a sense, but it was a personal sense. In truth, he didn't need any more accolades. He didn't need to be getting shot at. He didn't have to deal with military-grade rations, or have to run inventory. No weapons check, or late night mission reports and patrols of the decks. No hum of the eezo-core, or the quiet chatter of off-duty soldiers. No smell of gun oil and no buffering out the dents and dings the mercs left in your armor. No more worrying if your crew were following the regs, or if you were politically correct when dealing with the other races.

He didn't have to worry if it would be his last night alive with his crew.

But he'd really miss it.


	11. Questions

**AN: **Last upload for the day. Don't want to swamp you guys with the current 18 chapters all at once, but I did want to get you guys back into Shepard's POV after the long string of characters.

This is one of my earlier favorite chapters. Well, I'm sure you'll see why soon enough.

- Tac

* * *

><p><strong>Questions<strong>

"To fire, set the firing solution to the coordinates of your desired target, keeping in mind of the trajectory of the ammunition and the average velocity of the wind, calculated with the planet's gravitational and centrifugal force —aw hell, this makes no sense." Shepard furiously ruffled her hair, puffing the messed up strands out of her face with an exasperated breath, "Why can't it just say 'Aim and hit the pretty red button'?" She tossed the firing manual aside.

She wasn't a technician, never claimed to be one. Firing solutions and coordinates weren't her forte. She just shot things. Sure, she had to have some sort of grasp on physics to be able to shoot well. Without that slight understanding, she'd have difficulty hitting the broadside of a building when there was a slight wind, let alone a target. But concerning the MAKO, it's shells had a blast radius large enough that even if she shot it in the general vicinity of her target, it would do at least some collateral damage—direct hit or not. She sighed, casting a vicious glance at the manual. Nope, she had to play nice. RTFM. Learn how to shoot the damn thing.

In the confined quarters of the small land rover, Shepard was enveloped in the overpowering scent of fresh, unweathered leather and machine oil, because there was a need to distinguish the oil. Gun oil and machine oil had two very distinct smells, though only someone with a lot of experience with the two would know the difference. Truthfully, she preferred the scent of gun oil; pungent, but with sweet and earthly undertones. Nothing smelt better than a freshly cleaned, freshly oiled rifle…well, maybe there were a lot of things that smelt better, but nothing was more comforting on a battlefield.

She stretched out her cramped legs and stifled a yawn. She had had enough reading for one sitting. Hand braced on a dark console, she moved to exit the MAKO, not bothering to check if the entrance was clear. It wasn't, and her head collided with something very painful, which also grunted in pain.

"Son of a—!"

She fell backwards, hand pressed to her throbbing forehead, and the back of her head coming in contact with one of the small consoles behind her. She cursed again, finding herself on the cold floor not sure which side of her head to cradle. What she was certain of was the slew of cursing and berating that was bubbling in her chest.

She pushed herself up from the floor, wincing as the blood rushed from her head and her vision momentarily blackened, obscuring her view of the one who so nicely crashed heads with her. As the spots cleared, Shepard found herself looking at a very dismayed, coffee-eyed biotic leaning into the cab—one that also seemed to be at a loss for words; his brow knitted and jaw clenched in what she assumed to be self-admonishment. No need for her to get after him. He seemed to be doing a fine job of that himself.

"Commander, I'm sorry."

She shook her head, regretting the movement a moment later. She opted to wave him off. "It's alright, Lieutenant. I should have been paying attention."

Kaidan moved out of the way, allowing her room to shuffle out of the MAKO. He held out a hand, which she was about to gratefully take when a visibly blue spark shot out through the small space and zapped her painfully on the hand. Both retracted, Shepard shaking her hand with a sharp intake of breath while Alenko brought his close to him, fist clenched and cringing.

He looked at her apologetically. "I'm…I'm sorry about that too."

"That was one hell of a static shock."

"Biotic, ma'am." He explained, "Though, I suppose you already knew that." He extended his hand again, which she looked at with mock scrutiny.

"You won't zap me again?"

He cringed, "I'll do my best, but no promises."

She took his hand—minus the shock this time—and was hauled to her feet, surprised by the unexpected strength behind his arm. She patted his shoulder. "Relax Lieutenant. I was joking."

"Yes…right. Of course. Are you alright?" he asked, moving to inspect the lump that had already appeared on the back of her skull. "That was a pretty solid hit you took."

She moved away before he got there, eyeing him cautiously.

"Sorry. I received a bit of medical training during my earlier years of service. Force of habit."

Well now she felt foolish. Why was she reading into his movements? Shepard gingerly rubbed the back of her head. "You apologize a lot, y'know that?"

"Sor—" he shut his mouth before he got any farther, earning a bemused chuckle from her. He nodded towards the elevator. "You might want to get checked out by the doctor. Just to make sure you don't have a concussion."

"There's no blood, so I think I'm okay." She said with a shrug, rolling her shoulders. He eyed her carefully, concern and guilt obviously gnawing at him. It made her rethink her response. "But I'll go, just to be safe."

/ - /

She walked into the small med-bay, greeted by the smell of anti-septic medication and serialization. Doctor Chakwas looked up from a report in her hands upon hearing her door open. Shepard gave her a small wave.

"Hey doc. I need you to check out my head for me."

The older woman motioned towards a bed behind her. "Have a seat Commander."

Shepard did as she was told, settling on the same bed that she found herself in after the disastrous Eden Prime mission. Chakwas pressed cool hands against her temple, feeling out the new lumps protruding from her head.

"What, may I ask, were you doing that caused this much swelling?" she asked, disbelief evident in her questioning.

"I was poking around that fancy land rover we have down in the cargo hold." Shepard winced when the doctor hit a tender spot, "Lost my balance and ended up christening the MAKO with the back of my skull."

"They have champagne bottles for that."

"Yeah yeah, I know." Shepard waved off the joke, squinting as a bright light was shined into both her eyes.

"That explains the injury to the back of your head. What about this one?" the woman pointed at her forehead.

Shepard thought for a minute and decided that she didn't want to implement her Lieutenant and add to the situation that was already terribly awkward for him. Poor man seemed to have enough problems dealing with the fact that he seemed to be the constant source of head injuries to her—at least, that was how the pattern was shaping up to be.

"I, uh, ricocheted off of one console and into another."

The good doctor huffed at the obvious lie, but thankfully didn't press the issue. Shepard glanced over at the report she was filling out. "So, what's the bad news, doc? Will I ever play the piano again?"

Shepard was sure that if Chakwas hadn't been a doctor, and she herself wasn't there on a suspected head injury, the doc would have hit her. "It doesn't seem to be a concussion," she said, ignoring the Commander's ill-suited joke, "But you are going to have that nasty bump for a little while."

"I figured as much."

Setting the orange gadget on her desk, she turned back towards Commander, "Barring this most recent injury, how are you doing?"

Shepard frowned, not sure she was following the doctor's lead, "I'm doing well?"

"Have the headaches stopped? You look pale. Are you getting enough rest? "

She bit the inside of her cheek. So that was what she was getting at. "Listen doctor, I'm fine. The creepy alien beacon didn't mess my head up that bad." Another lie.

"You sure? I can prescribe some low dose sleeping medication. Nothing that would hamper your ability out in the field, just enough to get you some sleep."

The mention of sleeping pills hit a nerve that Shepard had almost forgotten about. "No." She was adamant. Forceful. "No sleeping pills."

"Commander, taking medication is not a sign of weakness—"

"I said no!" she barked, instantly regretting it. How could have Chakwas known? That incident wasn't even included in her records. No one knew, save her parents and a few key Alliance officers. She exhaled, running a shaking hand through her short hair. "I'm sorry. That was…uncalled for on my part."

She could tell that Chakwas wanted to ask for the reason, but she didn't let her medical curiosity get the better of her, which Shepard was thankful for.

"So, how well do you know the Lieutenant?" Shepard asked, hopping off the bed and now looking for a conversation to avoid the slightly awkward tension that had settled between patient and doctor. He seemed like a good enough topic as any other.

"Kaidan?" she tapped a pen against her desk, "I've never worked with him before this mission, but he has an impressive service record. Over a dozen special commendations."

She nodded. All of this she already knew.

"Tends to keep to himself though."

Yes. That too was already known.

"Maybe it's because of the headaches. It's not easy being an L2."

Wait. _That_ was new.

"Headaches." She thought back to their discussion back on the Citadel that night he had spied her hanging out in one of the trees on the Presidium. Alenko had picked up so easily on the pounding headache that was ravaging her brain at the time, it shocked her. She prided herself with her ability to hide the fact that she was in pain, but apparently none of that mattered at the time, because she wasn't fooling him. "But what does being an L2 have to do with anything?"

"Well, most biotics now use the L3 implants." She explained, using layman's terms for the benefit of Shepard, again, which she was thankful for. She could understand the basics of biotics and everything that made them tick, but the real in-depth science stuff was lost to her, as it was to most people. "Lieutenant Alenko was wired for the old L2 configuration, Sometimes there are…complications."

Now that bit worried her. She was slightly hesitant with her next questions, finding herself fearing the answer. "What kind of complications?"

Chakwas sighed as she listed them off, like she was naming the ingredients for a recipe. Shepard felt a rock of some emotion—she didn't know what, nor did she pay any particular attention to it at the time—sink lower and lower into her stomach with each one listed. "Severe mental disabilities, insanity, crippling physical pain." She shook her head. "There's a long list of horrific side effects. Kaidan's lucky. He just gets migraines."

Well, that explained some things. A lot of things, actually.

"Why all the questions and the interest in Kaidan?"

Shepard blinked, puzzled by the question. "No real reason. I guess you could call it simple curiosity."

Chakwas nodded, like Shepard had just imparted some sort of unknown, yet highly sought after, piece of wisdom. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I'm sending you off with a clean bill of health. Just try to avoid that rover from now on."

Shepard smiled, "I'll do my best, doc. And thanks."

"Let's try not to make a habit out of it."

She waved her off with a laugh, shoving her hands into her pockets with the thoughts of grabbing something to eat from the mess popping into her head with a low grumble of protest from her stomach. She was about to leave when the doctor stopped her.

"You know, he didn't leave your bedside for a moment. I tried to convince him to go eat, to go rest, but he wouldn't hear of it."

She turned to look at the woman, wondering what the purpose was behind the statement. Shepard opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again when she realized that she didn't even know what to say.

_He never left my side?_


	12. Nothing's Ever Easy

**AN: **Well, another update. It's actually one of my favorites so far. I love in-game banter, and the chance to make up some of my own was one that I could not pass up.

- Tac

**NOTE: **There be mature language below. So watch out!

* * *

><p><strong>Nothing's Ever Easy<strong>

"Wrex! Hit the damn thing!" Shepard barked as she jerked the wheel, the MAKO violently swerving and running over a large pile of rubble to avoid a particle blast from an armature, a small alarm sounding as geth pulse rounded chipped away at the shielding. The small land rover jostled over the debris, tossing its occupants around the cabin, Shepard hearing a clattering behind her seat and something that sounded like a krogan curse. Her translator didn't pick it up. Next to her, Alenko gripped the console in front of him, if anything to avoid being tossed into her lap. He'd come close a few times.

"Leave this piece of tin in one spot long enough—" Another krogan swear interrupted the retort as she veered the MAKO back the other way, the curse sounding particularly vulgar. She'd have to get Wrex to enlighten her on its meaning later, seeing how her language databases were a bit…lacking in the alien profanity.

"They've fucked with the radar, both the MAKO's and our hardsuits, so we're going in blind right now. I'm doing the best I—" A louder warning rang just as they took a particle blast to their flank. Shields were drained below fifty percent. "Damn it!"

"Give me a minute Commander. I think I can restore some of our visibility range." She glanced over at the Lieutenant, one who had been oddly quiet during this endeavor since entering the rover. Not that he was a social butterfly to begin with, but other than the occasional grunt when he was thrown about, he was very…professional. He had a boot jammed up against the main console, using the leverage to press his back into the wall behind him, limiting his movement about the front of the cabin. The soft orange glow of his omni-tool cast strange shadows on the contours of his face as his fingers danced over the device, his expression one of extreme concentration.

The MAKO reverberated as Wrex fired the high caliber turret, heavy rounds exploding from the gun up top and hopefully ravaging geth as it did so. An explosive round was ejected soon after, the momentum jerking the vehicle back a few feet.

Moments later a distinct hum filled her hardsuit and cabin, the radar flickering on with an audible _DING_, just in time for an armature to come into view. Shepard had little time to react and instead rammed the damned synthetic head on, throwing her forward, her helmet rapping against the wheel in her hands

"Gotcha, you little synthetic bastard." She said, sounding a bit more darkly enthusiastic about it than she had planned, watching with an unguarded half-smirk as the blip on her now functional radar flickered.

The impact had dislodged the Lieutenant from his perch and sent him to the floor, Shepard seeing him land awkwardly with one arm pinned underneath him, the other flailing about trying to find purchase to hoist himself back up. She patted the waving arm with a strong hand. An unspoken _Good job, Lieutenant._

"Countermeasures enacted, with some visibility restored, ma'am." He said, his tone steady despite him having half his face buried into the rough floor covering of the rover. "Though we have a very limited range." Even after being brutally tossed about, he wasn't the slightest bit breathy. "Didn't realize you liked playing with the geth so much, ma'am."

She gave a shrug—her giddiness gone in an instant, or at least dulled to appropriate levels—as she backed up the little vehicle and promptly ran into the oversized geth once more, jostling her squadmates once more, the tires squelching as it pulled its metal body over the carcass of the geth. "What can I say?" She ran over a foot soldier, another red triangle flickering and dropping off the radar. "I love the sound of crushed synthetics in the morning."

"You're all crazy!" screamed the until-now forgotten fourth rider: Lisbeth, the young ExoGeni scientist that they had found in the crumbling base of operations of the company. She was brave enough to point a gun at Shepard and lucky enough to live to learn from the mistake. Most didn't get that chance. You shoot at Shepard and missed; you rarely got to try again. Fact of life. Granted, she felt bad young woman and perhaps even admired her—if anything—for her tenacity, but that didn't make her all the more wild about being shot at. Not that it was different from any other day of her life, of course, but she liked to attempt to keep the Swiss cheese factor of her body to a minimum.

No, what bothered her was the creature Lizbeth had called the Thorian. According to her, it was an indigenous plant found only on Feros with special mind-control abilities. ExoGeni had been hiding this plant below the Zhu's Hope colony, using the colonist—unbeknownst to them—as living, breathing, two-legged guinea pigs. And to top it all off, Saren wanted the damn thing.

Fantastic. Just what she needed. She already had enough problems dealing with a moody turian armed with a vendetta against humanity and a massive geth army without having to worry about a freaky mind plant being thrown into the mix. Just fantastic.

Well, it explained all the crazies running about, that was for damn sure. But what Shepard couldn't figure out was how a plant could—or would want to, for that matter—control the minds of other life forms? It was a characteristic common with parasitic specimens. She had paid enough attention in her high school A and P class to at least understand that the supposed 'mind control' had to do with the plant's pollen and chemical make-up. When the spores were released into the air, they would come in contact with the colonists. Colonists would breathe in the pollen; the pollen would mess around with the nervous system and whittle down their immune system. The colonists would get sick and show signs of mind-control that could simply be accredited to mental destabilization due to the foreign particles bouncing around in their head.

Well, that's what she thought anyway. Who knew, the plant could very well have a self-aware consciousness of its own self and be able to make humans and other creatures do its bidding by just thinking it. She was well past doubting anything for the simple reason that it seemed impossible.

Plowing through the remaining geth on the skyway and the radar free of any hostile activity for the moment, Shepard pulled into the makeshift garage, the shutters closing behind them with a high-pitch screech, the old hinges practically begging for a good oil down. The tension in her shoulders didn't relax.

"Hello? Is there anyone picking this up?"

"Get away from that radio!"

Suddenly Lisbeth was standing in the space between the two chairs in the front of the MAKO. Shepard could feel the leather indent beneath the woman's fingertips. She was staring intently at the comm system. Shepard knew Lizbeth recognized her mother's voice.

"What was that all about?"

A hesitant rhetorical question. The woman's voice filled the cabin again.

"This is Juliana Baynham of the Feros Colony. Please help us." Shepard's grip tightened on the wheel.

"That's my mom! Stop! Stop the rover!"

Shepard twisted around in her seat to grab Lizbeth, her armor restricting her movement in the cramped quarters, but the daughter was already climbing out of the MAKO and running off to who-knows-where. How the hell she had gotten the door open with the rover's failsafe was beyond her. The stupid thing wouldn't usually open until the rover was at a dead hault. She did know, however, that she was grabbing her rifle and jogging after the girl, avoiding the larger pieces of ruble that covered a good portion of the pathway and throwing incoherent complaints at her back. _Civilians…_ She didn't bother to look behind to check if Wrex and Alenko had followed. She knew full well that they matched her pace without a sound.

Shepard ducked behind a conveniently placed crate, signaling Wrex and Kaidan to hold position while they still remained in the blind spot of the tunnel. Lizbeth had taken a spot directly next to Shepard, behind her own crate and perfectly out of sight. From the sound of the hidden argument in front of her, Jeong had finally snapped, and Juliana was not about to stand for it. Shepard cautioned a glance. A dozen or so people stood in the alcove, only four of them looking remotely prepared for an assault. Two of the armored men guarded the entrance, and doing a very poor job, she might add, seeing how they didn't realize Lizbeth or Shepard and her team sneaking up on them; the other two were currently restraining Juliana, Jeong pacing in front of her like a caged animal.

She barked something at Jeong, who spun on her and ordered his henchmen to do-away with her. Shepard had to act fast. A full-frontal attack left too much to chance. It would be far too easy for a bystander, or even the hostage for that matter, to get hit with a poorly placed bullet. No, she had to distract the guards, perhaps with a tactfully placed grenade, far enough away so that any shrapnel wouldn't hit anyone. A small ordinace pack would do the trick—

"Get away from her, you son of a bitch!"

…Or Lizbeth could just screw everything up. Yeah, that plan worked out just as well. It's not like she wanted to go through with the other one anyway.

"D-damn it! Come out where I can see you, all of you!"

Today really just wasn't her day.

Shepard stood, begrudgingly clipping her rifle away, but also seeing the almost tear-jerking reunion of mother and daughter. Good thing she wasn't one for crying. She heard gravel crunching behind her as her teammates came down the ramp to join her. Well, at least Jeong looked surprised to see her. Perhaps she could play that to her favor.

The man sighed. Apparently Shepard being there really messed with whatever sick plan he had going. The thought almost made her smile. Almost. "Shepard? Damn it, I knew it was too much to hope that the geth would kill you." He laughed, "I found some interesting facts about you in the ExoGeni data base. I know what happened on Elysium. This doesn't have to end like that."

Shepard wondered if anyone saw her shoulders tense at the mention of Elysium. Or if anyone knew how much she wanted to kill the poor-excuse for a man standing in front of her, or how much willpower it took _not_ too.

"We can talk this out. Nobody needs to get hurt." Good. She sounded normal. Sounded like Commander Shepard.

"Y-you don't understand. It's not that easy."

Shepard bit the inside of her cheek. _Oh really? You know what's easy? A finely compressed, high velocity heat round being ejected from the barrel of an exceedingly sophisticated, version VIII, of an HMWP Advanced pistol. Spectre issue. You wouldn't even have time to think about the round frying your shriveled little brain._

Yes. She was pissed. Did it show?

"Communications are back up. ExoGeni wants this place purged."

Oh, the willpower it took not to shoot him. It was a real simple solution; she could even blame it on the geth. Her hand tensed over the pistol clipped to her side, but she felt a hand gentle nudge her arm, she seeing her Lieutenant in her peripherals. She understood the gesture and exhaled. _Keep it cool, Shepard. _It wasn't like her to let someone like Jeong to get under her skin.

"This is a human colony Jeong! You can't just repurpose us!"

He laughed nervously, wringing his hands together. _Prick._ "It's not just you. There's something here far more valuable than a few colonists."

Shepard had his number. She knew ExoGeni's plan the moment Lizbeth had confessed about Species 37. It wasn't anything original. In fact, it was probably one of the most over used plans thought up by corrupt companied looking for a quick buck. She pointed an accusing gloved hand at him. "You're after the one unique thing Feros has."

She watched his face pale, his throat quivering as he swallowed hard. She had him.

"The Thorian."

/ - /

"Son of a—!" Green, acidic blood splashed over her shields as another creeper burst from a shotgun shot to its chest. The display on her arm fizzled as the liquid ate away at her power reserves. Damn it, those things were a pain to deal with. She wasn't even sure where they came from. They had been waiting for her and her team when they came up to the bay doors of the colony, roughly a dozen moaning to life, much to the disagreement of Shepard.

She started to regret letting Jeong live.

"It's never easy," she grumbled, sticking out a boot and tripping up one of the creatures, gleefully launching a round into the back of its head as it face planted into the cracked stone floor, "It can never be a simple job. Always, 'Sure, you can have that, but first we need you to go do this.' Then you get to your designated spot, and find out that there is at least three other freaking things you have to do before you can accomplish your original objective." She landed a fist square in the face of another creeper, it spiraling away as Wrex finished it off.

"I think you'd be rather disappointed if Saren just handed himself over on a silver platter." Kaidan said, his deep voice coming in clear through Shepard's earpiece, but she couldn't see him. She figured he was around the corner, setting up another ordinance of the anti-Thorian gas Lizbeth had been so kind to give them. Knocked the colonists right out while doing a number on the moaning creepies too. A double win in Shepard's book.

"I would be, I just wish he's stop causing so—gah!" An infected colonist had snuck up on her and choked out the last of her response, throwing his arms around her neck in a headlock. She heard the click of Wrex's pistol as he trained a sight on the human behind her, but she threw up a hand to stay him as she brought her other elbow into the soft, unprotected stomach of the colonist, stunning him long enough for her to bring a fist across his face. The colonist crumpled to the floor with a grunt, and other than the black eye he would wake up with, was relatively unharmed. That was the one fallback of kinetic shielding; it protected you from the heat rounds from any of their modern-day weaponry, but the second you were in hand-to-hand combat, it didn't do you a lick of good.

Kaidan appeared from around a corner seconds after the sound of a dulled explosion, a puff of smoke trailing behind him. "You alright, Commander?"

Shepard jabbed a thumb over at the unconscious man. Kaidan nodded in silent understanding.

"That should be the last of them," he explained, falling in step with her as they picked their way over the sleeping forms of the colonists, making their way towards the heart of the colony, "Once we take out the Thorian, the colonists should be alright, in theory."

"In theory?"

He nodded again. "There's bound to be some sort of side effect from being under control of that creature, especially when it uses pain to control its thralls, like that one guy we observed when we were investigating the problems with the water ducts."

They came up to the console that she knew would reveal where this stupid plant was being hidden, "Then let's make sure we make quick work of it." She stepped back as Kaidan worked the controls, one of the containment pods lifting into the air to uncover a set of stairs leading down far below the colony. She clapped him on the shoulder, ready to be done with this creature and off the planet, but something was still off. A small sound. Shuffling.

She spun around, weapon drawn, seeing the colony leader inching towards them. Despite the invisible forced pushing him, she could see his struggle.

"I tried to fight it, but it just gets in your head. You can't imagine the pain." Closer, inch by inch. Step after shaky forced step. Shepard kept her weapon drawn, hoping that she wouldn't have to pull the trigger. Not when they had been able to spare all the others.

"I was supposed to be their leader. These people needed to trust me." The invisible hand moved his to the gun at his waist, forced him to point it at Shepard. She took a step back, finger twitching to the trigger.

_I don't want to shoot._

"It wants me to stop you, but I won't."

_But I will if I have to._

He fought back, halting his advance and bringing the weapon back, pressing the muzzle to his temple. She saw his muscles shaking with exertion.

"I won't!"

Shepard wouldn't have had time to stop it, she knew that, but it didn't make the sound of the firing gun echoing off the walls around her any easier to bear. She didn't flinch, didn't even bat an eyelash at the blood splattering the nearby wall or at the crumpled body that collapsed to the ground, or even give the corpse or the quickly widening pool of blood that formed around it a second glance as she and her team passed by, heading down into the cool musty air below the colony.

No. She strode by, purpose evident in her pace and her head held high with confidence. Anything to negate how much that single, echoing shot really bothered her. It was the galaxy taking that knife it had already plunged deep into her back and twisting it, ever so slightly.

And she was fucking sick of it.


	13. Weed Killer

**AN: **Still on Feros, but I do try to mix things up a bit as we go along. Not one of my favortie planet missions, but hey, what can you do?

- Tac

* * *

><p><strong>Weed Killer<strong>

Her footsteps were silent in the dark hallway, a seemingly endless path of stairs leading farther down into the earth. Just how secure did ExoGeni need to keep this stupid plant?

The air around her felt…old, if that made any sense. It had the feeling of a basement, like the one in the State House in Boston, Massachusetts that she had seen on a class trip years ago. It amazed her that, even now when they had galactic problems to deal with, the government worked hard to keep ancient buildings like that in shape. She'd never forget that earthy scent; a mixture of damp books that you dare not move and the presence of mildew that you dared not to get rid of either. That was what the air smelt like. Just older. A lot older.

Reaching the bottom level, the hallway abruptly turned left, with no other choice or direction as to where to go, not unless she felt like walking into a wall. Shepard shared a look with the Lieutenant, one that said _Well, here we go_, before leading the way into the large chamber, hesitantly passing what looked like creepers tucked into neat, little balls all around the room, though not a single one morphed out of their shape to swing their limbs at her. Though that was a plus, she kept a wary eye on them.

Kaidan was on his omni-tool again, probably scanning the area for any alien signatures that could be the Thorian. "Okay, by the numbers, we just need to find…to find…"

Shepard saw it too.

"What is _that_?" She heard a slightly reminiscent tone of his reaction to the gas bags on Eden Prime. Had she not been so dumbfounded herself, she would have made fun of him for it. Probably would have enjoyed flustering him a bit, but not with this monstrous creature staring them in the face. Not when her idea of just stomping over a tiny, hapless plant was being tossed out the nearest airlock at the moment. And most definitely not when she now had no idea where to even start poking at the bulbous, lumpy mass to begin killing it.

"That does not look like any plant I've ever seen." She rubbed the back of her neck, "We're going to need bigger guns."

Wrex scoffed. "We kill it. Makes no difference how big it is." Sure. Wrex was a krogan. The only thing that messed with a krogan—head on, at least—was a rachni, and they were driven to extinction. Killing a giant, mutant, mind control plant monster thing probably seemed like a good day on Turchanka.

…She needed to coin up more technical terms. She doubted _giant, mutant, mind control plant monster thing_ would look as nice on an Alliance report as she thought it would.

Shepard took a hesitant step towards the creature, trying to get a better look at what she thought to be its face. It was ugly, that was certain, but it didn't look hostile. It had tentacles hanging from the front of it, with some sort of liquid dripping from it, but no obvious defense mechanism; no obvious way for it to attack them. Was it really only good for mind control? The idea of riddling it full of bullet holes was sounding more and more promising.

"Commander…" she heard the warning in Kaidan's voice.

The creature made a noise, a groan perhaps, and a shudder passed through its monstrous size. It twitched, quivering with unknown intentions, and from an opening she decided that was obscured by the tentacles, feet appeared, with a lithe body following them soon after.

Shepard felt her maturity plummet to levels that it hadn't been at since junior high.

God, it really had been a long day.

The form that stood from the Thorian was, of all things, a green asari. _Green. _Shepard didn't even realize that asari came in any other color _but _blue—different shades, yes—but always blue. Not this one, apparently; she was a vibrant, healthy shade of forest green.

"Invaders! Your every step is a transgression. A thousand feelers appraise you as meat, good only to dig and decompose. I speak for the Old Growth as I did for Saren. You are within and before the Thorian. It commands that you be in awe!"

Sorry, she was still stuck on the fact that the green asari had just called her a piece of meat. That, and she was _green._ And had just been—was birthed even the right word?—she had come from that creature. Of all the strange things that had ever happened during a mission, this one was about to win the award. And that was beating out the time where she had the leader of a merc group lay down his weapons, turn over his entire gang, and then ask her out on a date as she was dragging him out of his hideout in cuffs.

"_It'll have to be after I get out of jail, of course, but I think you and I have a chance. Y'know what I mean, Miss Alliance?"_

That had been odd. This was just all sorts of bizarre.

In any case, the asari had announced her association with Saren. It meant she had Shepard's undivided

attention, insulted piece of meat or not.

"You gave something to Saren. Something I need."

The asari stood emotionless. "Saren sought knowledge of those who were gone. The Old Growth listened to flesh for the first time in the Long Cycle. Trades were made. Then cold ones began killing the flesh that would tend the next cycle. Flesh fairly given. The Old Growth sees the air you push as lies. It will listen no more."

_The colonists. I need to save the colonists_._ Deal with the information Saren wanted later. Priorities._ "I won't let you keep your tralls. Release them. Now." She was well past the bargaining point.

"No more will the Thorian listen to those that scurry. Your lives are short, but have gone on too long!"

She flared blue, energy shimmering around her form with deadly intentions. With a sigh, Shepard readied her rifle, it propped securely in the hollow of her shoulder, and took aim.

/ - /

The Thorian let out a scream, the dreaded noise crashing over Shepard as the ground shook beneath her boots, the immense creature losing its foothold in the walls. It swung dangerously to one side as its tendons gave way, the creature's size weighing itself down. It screamed again, and then without an attempt to save itself, crashed into the chasm below, leaving nothing but ancient dust flitting through the air in its wake. She brushed sweat-dampened hair out of her face as she peered down after the Thorian.

"I think it's finally dead."

And it was about damn time too. After what seemed like an endless horde of creepers and a never ending supply of crazy green asari commandos, Shepard had begun to doubt that they would even be able to kill the thing.

She glanced over at her squad, quickly scanning them for any visible injuries that would require immediate attention. Kaidan looked stiff and he was favoring his right ankle, but nothing seemed out of place. He was handy to have around on a ground team, his expertise with tech and first aid were irreplaceable, as were his biotics, but the light armor his biotics required him to wear always made her nervous. She found herself paying closer attention to him during a combat situation, despite knowing full well that he could handle himself. She wanted nothing more than to shove him into a hardsuit similar to her own, anything to shut up that nagging voice in the back of her head, but she knew she couldn't. Not without interfering with his biotics.

Wrex, on the other hand, seemed like he had just taken a stroll through the park. He was casually checking his shotgun, unimpressed with the feat they just accomplished and showing no signs of fatigue. Shepard really envied a krogan's redundant nervous system sometimes.

But overall, everything was good. All of them had gotten out of this none the worse for wear.

She lifted a tired hand to her ear about to radio Joker, the simple motion causing her muscles to quietly complain at her. That's when she heard it. A sound. Twitching, tearing. And then the _thump_ of a body hitting the floor. What she found was neither a creeper nor a geth, nor the Thorian dragging itself back up from its dusty grave for Round Two, but the asari commando; her complexion now resembling that of a normal asari.

There was never a dull moment when the universe was calling the shots.

"I'm free…" She looked at her with turquoise eyes that showed nothing but gratitude. Shepard knew that she should at least be cautious with the asari, knowing that only minutes ago she had green counterparts trying to kill her. Something in the back of her mind told her otherwise, though; her Alliance gut feeling saying that this one was good. "I suppose I should thank you for releasing me."

"Is everything alright? Are you hurt?"

"I am fine. Or I will be, in time. My name is Shiala. I serve…" she paused, a look of sadness and loss washing over her beautiful features, "I served Matriarch Benezia. When she allied herself with Saren, so did I. Benezia foresaw the influence Saren would have. She joined him to guide him down a gentler path. But Saren is compelling. Benezia lost her way."

Shepard held up a hand, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Wait. Are you saying that Saren can control minds?"

She shook her head. "Benezia underestimated Saren. As I did. We came to believe in his cause and his goals. The strength of his influence is troubling."

"Typical meddling asari. About time it bit you in the ass." And that was why Wrex wasn't in charge of things. Sure, he'd get faster results, but the body count would probably increase ten-fold, and that was saying something when compared to her own numbers. Explosions had a habit of following her.

"Asari Matriarchs are among the most intelligent and powerful beings in the galaxy. How could one fall under Saren's control?"

Shepard wished she hadn't asked the question, because one thing led to another, and she found herself preparing for another onslaught on her brain. It was apparently the only way to get the Cipher—a compilation of information that explained what made the Protheans, well, Prothean—from Shiala's consciousness to her own. Just how much information that entailed, she didn't know. Shepard just wished it didn't require scrambling her head again. She was still reeling from the last intrusion into her psyche, and wasn't looking forward to this one. But it had to be done. She had to understand the warning from the beacon. She had to stop Saren. And if that meant some asari got to poke around her brain, then so be it.

Shiala was saying something, possibly meaningful words that on any other occasion would have been very poetic and beautiful, but all she heard now was a soft buzz, a ringing in her ears that was steadily growing, a cacophony of sound that drowned out all others.

Shepard shut her eyes, getting the feeling that this mind-meld was an act on the highest of personal levels for the asari. She was suddenly aware of the watchful gaze of her squad prickling against her skin.

"Embrace eternity!"

The words cut through the droning with a shocking force, and Shepard felt her mind and body recoil at once from the invasion. A strong hand braced against her back kept her from falling over, a concerned voice attempting to break through the haze that had clouded her awareness, though sounding like it came from a long and winding tunnel.

_Music filled the air, quiet melodies that delicately rose and fell with accents and crescendos. Buildings, enormous edifices, towering into the skies above, as if to touch the heavens themselves. Flashes of people, of places. Of knowledge. A beautiful garden. Flowers and plants spotting the pathways, statues erected in magnificent brilliance. A language that seemed to dance and shimmer as one spoke it. An empire, far larger and more powerful than one could ever conceive, reaching into the night sky, passing the stars and moons, continually growing. Ever evolving._

She gasped as the hold on her mind was released, her eyes snapping open to reveal her own world once more, her breathing far less controlled than she would have liked. Her legs felt wobbly, for the lack of a better term, and every ounce of her begged for a corner to curl up in so that she could sleep. Though, despite it all, she thought that she should count herself lucky. Shiala had left her in far better condition than the Prothean beacon did.

"I have given you the Cipher. The ancestral memories of the Protheans are a part of you now."

Great.

"Are you okay?" Kaidan asked, much closer to her than previously realized. He had to have been the one keeping her on her feet.

"I-I'm fine. I saw…I saw something. It still doesn't make any sense." She made no attempt to hide the frustration in her voice. After the beating she had put her brain through, she had at least hoped that there would be a light-bulb moment—an epiphany of sorts—that something, _anything_, would make sense. The fact that everything was still a garbled mess wasn't exactly the personal morale booster she was looking for.

"You have been given a great gift: the experience of an entire people. It will take time for your mind to process this information."

Time. A commodity that she didn't have much of.

Kaidan was speaking again. "You look pretty rough. We should get you back to the ship."

For once she almost acknowledged that there was nothing she wanted more than a chance to just sleep, but that would have been an admittance of fatigue, a sign of weakness, neither of which fit with the Commander Shepard aurora.

"I'm going to go check on the colonists first," she said, rolling her shoulders back in an attempt to work out the tension beginning to take root. Sleep could wait for a few more hours. "You two finish up here and then head back to the Normandy to get cleaned up. We'll debrief the rest of the crew later."

It was obvious that Kaidan wanted to disagree, but she knew he knew better, and he gave her a curt "Aye aye, ma'am." Just like she knew he would.

She didn't wait to hear the end of the conversation with Shiala. Her feet swiftly carried her up the first few flights of stairs, putting enough distance between her and her team to allow a moment where she could permit her strength to crack without fear of marring her reputation. She slumped up against the cool wall, knees barely supporting her weight, her breathing nothing more than short, ragged gasps. Her head felt like it was on the verge of imploding in on itself, images of Prothean life fighting for dominance against memories of her own life in a vicious game of tug-of-war. Nothing made sense.

She was beginning to wonder if things ever would.


	14. Aftermath

**AN:** Now, this was written way before Mass Effect 3 graced us with its presence, so a part of this is a bit off with the now established demenor of the Protheans. I'm not going to change it, because at the time, neither Shepard nor Liara (not anyone, really) knew what the Protheans were really all about. So I'm just going to roll with it and deal with it when the time comes later on down the road. :)

- Tac

* * *

><p><strong>Aftermath<strong>

_Kaidan felt every minute of combat latch onto the deepest parts of his limbs as he trudged back to the Normandy, the exhaustion pulling on him, beckoning him into a desperately needed reprieve. He felt every ounce of dirt and grime clinging to his skin, wisps of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Bruises were just starting to poke at him where a creeper had caught him just right, or where Shepard's driving had gotten the best of his balance; he knew he would find a particularly nasty one right below his ribs, already able to imagine the deep mixture of purple and blue that Van Gogh would be jealous of. He felt his frayed nerves firing off, sparks of invisible dark energy fizzling around him. He felt the ghost pains of a migraine that he knew would materialize within hours._

_What he felt was a typical wear-and-tear kind of day of an Alliance soldier._

_But Feros had been spared. From the geth. From the Thorian. And from ExoGeni. They were given a chance to rebuild, to form something out of nothing—or close to it— from the barren wasteland planet that time had left it. The colonists, he had found, were tenacious and had a determination burning in them like none he had seen for a while. They would strengthen the colony. They would rebuild. He was certain._

_He stopped his advance when he saw Shepard on the loading dock, helmet tucked under her arm, still dressed in her armor. It was covered in a dozen new nicks and dents that would have to be buffed out before their next ashore mission, though seeing the patches of eroded material where acid had begun to burn through meant that she was going to have to replace it soon. Her cropped hair that usually curved around her face in a delicate fashion—if you could call anything about the Commander "delicate"—stuck to her skin in a similar manner to his. A small cut on her cheek still oozed, a thin trail of blood mixing with the streaks of dirt on her face. The dying sun cast hues of oranges across the dock, highlighting the shades of red in her hair. She was an image of beautifully controlled chaos. Kaidan wished that he had something to capture the sight before him, because it was the picture of humanity at its best._

_He wondered if he should interrupt her thoughts that she seemed to be so lost in, to possibly try to attempt to quietly inch by without disturbing her, but he found himself saying the words as logic told him not to. "Everything alright, Commander?"_

"_It would figure," she said, her back to him, "That of all the things to hit me first about the Protheans, it would be their love of architecture. Their appreciation for it. The sheer feeling of accomplishment when they create an empire such as the one that now lays in ruin before us." She used her free arm to draw an arc across the horizon, "And upon seeing this," she continued, indicating the crumbling buildings and smog-filled air, "It invokes such a feeling of…despair. Total sadness. I feel the full weight and magnitude of the unimaginable loss that we see. I understand it."_

"_Protheams didn't cry. Tears weren't something that their people were engineered to produce. Instead, they sang. They had hundreds of songs, each holding a significant meaning, and always accompanied by an equally significant feeling. The song that I have echoing between my ears right now—god, I can't even begin to describe it."_

_She looked so proud with her shoulders straight and chin held high, so when she finally turned to face him and he saw the single tear rolling down her cheek, it shocked him speechless. She wiped it away, leaving a dark smudge behind, and looked at the wet residue on her glove with a detached blue gaze, frowning._

"_It's not even mine."_

_Before he could process any of what he was seeing, let alone decide how to react, she was shaking her head, letting out a very cynical chuckle._

"_Damn that turian. I'm going personally hand him the bill to my psychiatrist once this is all done." She then turned her gaze on him, that impossible-to-resist blue gaze. He felt his heart jump a little._

"_I think every time it's just you and me, Alenko, I'm off on some half-baked, lunatic rant."_

_That was the first time she hadn't used his rank. He didn't know why it mattered, but it did. It mattered a lot._

"_I don't mind. It suits you." _

_Wait. Not what he wanted to say. Definitely not what he meant to say. Not even close._

_She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "Half-baked lunatic rants suit me?"_

_Too late. "No! I didn't mean to-because you're not-I mean-" Kaidan couldn't remember the last time he had stumbled over his words this much. Just shut up Alenko. Before you make a bigger fool of yourself. "Ma'am."_

_Shepard crossed her arms and tilted her slightly to one side. "Then what do you think _does _suit me?"_

_She was fixing that stare on him again. And he just. Couldn't. Think. He felt like she could see straight through him, and be it from stubbornness on his part or some other force keeping him there, he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. And so he stood there, rather dumbly, he might add, unable to come up with anything to say. He doubted that he would have been able to form the words into a coherent sentence even if he had._

_Shepard laughed quietly to herself, probably at his own expense, and patted him on the shoulder as she walked past into the airlock. _

"_You're not too bad, Alenko."_

_Just before the VI began the decontamination program, she looked over her shoulder, Kaidan seeing a familiar glimmer reflect in her eyes. _

/ - /

How long had it been since he first stepped on the Normandy? A week? Maybe two? It didn't feel like it had been that short of time. Not with all that had happened. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't sent his folks a message in some time. His last one had been a couple weeks before he had received his assignment to the Normandy. Most of what had happened was classified information, but he could at least—

"God damn son of a—!"

There was only one person on the ship with that much of a colorful vocabulary, no matter how much of it had been muffled. He poked his head around the corner, seeing Shepard with a dismantled M8 rifle lying on the table in front of her clutching her hand, muttering under her breath. A thin line of blood dripped from her gripped fist.

"Damn barrel slid back and took a chunk out of my hand." She explained without taking her glare from the weapon. She looked up at him, "Never fails to do so when I clean the silly thing."

"You know, I'm sure the Chief would love to do maintenance on that."

She grinned. "I'm sure she would, and no offence to her, but no one touches my gun. Rule Number Three."

"Rule Number Three?" he asked, leaning up against the table.

Shepard nodded, removing her hand to examine her palm. "Dad's 'Rule Number Three.' My father has a lot of them. And before you ask, I can't tell you what they are. Classified information. Strictly a need-to-know basis." She said in her best impression of the higher-ups, her voice dropping a few octaves to accommodate the persona. She was actually quite good at it.

He nodded at her hand. "You going to get that bandaged up?"

He wished that she would go see Chakwas. Not just for her most recent injury, but because he knew she wasn't sleeping. Not much, at least. While her complexion didn't seem as pale as it had been when she had him stumbling over his words earlier, it wasn't much better now. She had just begun to look like she was getting a decent amount of sleep before today, but after another round of Prothean visions, she had been sent all the way back to square one. Possibly further, seeing how this was the essence of an entire civilization.

He knew her well enough to know that she was going to try and make sense of all of it, using what little downtime she had after checking in with all the stations and doing a last patrol of the decks, to do research. He had access to the ship's extranet logs—an advantage to knowing the inside and out of the Normandy's tech systems— and based on the time stamps, she spent most of her personal time looking up what little information there were on the Protheans and Reapers, almost to an obsessive amount.

He really wished that—

"It'll stop bleeding eventually." She said with a shrug, interrupting and oblivious to his worried thoughts, picking up a rag and going back to cleaning the gun, polishing away dirt. They sat in silence for a minute or two. Kaidan didn't mind. He watched her run maintenance, smiling inwardly when she would frown slightly when a spec would hang on stubbornly and then went on to assault it with furious little swipes until it gave up. He was so lost in how relaxed she seemed that he missed her question.

"So what's your reason?" she repeated, "Why'd you enlist?"

It was his turn to shrug. "I'm a biotic. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Mercenary work is always a possibility. Go and be a big, bad crime boss." She said it with such a straight face that he had he not known her, he would have completely believed that she was serious. "Of course, then you'd probably get me breaking down your door eventually." She added with a mischievous chuckle. "But that's it? Just because you're a biotic?"

"Well no. I wanted to see what was out here, y'know? I spent a good portion of my childhood on Earth, and after…well, after some things, decided that I wanted to make a difference. Get out and see what all of this was really about. So I joined the Alliance." He ran a hand through his hair, "Though we finally get out here and the final frontier is already settled. And no one seems to be impressed by the view. Or the dangers."

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She had figured something out. Perhaps something that he may not have wanted to give away. "Well I'll be damned. You're a romantic!"

Kaidan felt warmth spread across his face, which she must have noticed, because the small smirk blossomed into a full, genuine smile, and she was laughing. Desperately trying not to, he noticed. She covered her mouth in an attempt to hide her amusement, but it didn't stop it from reaching her eyes, which seemed to sparkle. Her shoulders were still quivering as she took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. It's just that I never figured you the type." She apologized, trying to regain some semblance of composure, but unable to kill the smile that had stuck itself to her face. Kaidan didn't entirely mind. "I mean, I was beginning to wonder if you even knew how to smile, and now I find out that you 'signed on for the dream' and want to 'secure man's future in space.'" She joked, something that almost resembled a giggle escaping her lips. She was making fun him, all be it light-heartedly so.

Kaidan crossed his arms. "It seems like you can't _stop_ smiling."

Wow. He was surprised how smooth that sounded.

"Well, I'm around you. How can I—" She stopped mid-sentence, and the look on her face was priceless. Her smile had faded, replaced by a mixture of shock and puzzlement. He swore she looked like he felt half the time when dealing with her. That _I should have thought that one out a bit more _look.

And hell, was she _blushing_? She was. There was no denying the flush of red that covered her cheeks and spread to her ears. Shepard bit her lip, meeting what he hoped was a level gaze before quickly looking away and running a hand through her hair.

Damn it, she looked adorable, no matter how frustrated she seemed. To think, the great Commander Shepard had been flustered to the point of adorableness by one miraculously, spoken line.

She cleared her throat. "Yes, well I…"

And she had nothing to say. No witty comeback. No snarky remark. Nothing. She had been stunned into silence. He raised an eyebrow at her, feeling far more confident than he ever had, and grinned. And he took pleasure in a twisted sort of way in how pissed off it made her.

"Oh sure. _Now_ you fucking smile." She huffed, clearly upset with how fast this had all been turned around on her. Joker's voice interrupted them, probably seeming like a god-sent to Shepard at the moment.

"Hey Commander, I have a message from Admiral Hackett of the Fifth Fleet. I'm patching it through to the comm room."

"Thanks Joker. I'll be right there." Kaidan wasn't surprised in how professional she sounded, though it did clash horribly with her reddened face. She fixed a look on him as she stood.

"I expect to have a report on the Normandy's systems on my desk in 0100 hours. Understood Lieutenant?"

He snapped a salute, and couldn't help but grin at her. "Aye aye, ma'am."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Really? Singing Protheans? Obviously this was written when I believed them to have a sense of regality about them. Well, I was cleary mistaken.


	15. Insanity

**AN: **This was one of the chapters that went over really well with people back on Deviantart. Will be interested to see how you guys take to it.

- Tac

**NOTE:** Mature language and one intense and vengeful Shepard are waiting below.

* * *

><p><strong>Insanity<strong>

Shepard left the mess as composed as she possibly could manage, which was a miracle in and of itself.

_Well, I'm around you…_

What in god's name had possessed her to say that? Damn it, she couldn't think straight with that man around. He had her giggling like a school girl, distracted on the battlefield—whether it was from a tactical or aesthetical point of view—and saying dumbass things. Or not, as she had so nicely demonstrated. The one time she needed to toss out a smart retort and Kaidan, for once, had her scrambling to say something.

She could hear her father now, listing off the never ending tirade of rules, one for every aspect of life. Specifically, she could hear Rule Number One; the one that had been dogging her for days as she tried to deny that annoying little feeling that had been squirming around in her gut since she met the Lieutenant.

_Kiddo, listen to me. You never screw fellow marines. _Especially_ those that ranked above or below you. Ever._

Translation: Just don't do it.

In her younger days as a recruit, she had listened to that rule whole-heartedly, figuring her parents learned from their own mistake. But here she was now, perhaps not knowingly breaking Rule Number One, but very much bending it. And while she hadn't quite slept with Kaidan yet, she had just shamelessly flirted with him. Very shamelessly. Her father would have her head for this if he ever found out.

Did she say 'yet?'

Shepard stopped her ascent and promptly faced the wall to rest her forehead against the cool surface._ There is no 'yet.' There will never be a 'yet.' Jamie, you are treading on that carefully placed line. You are the commanding officer of the Alliance's most advanced war ship. Start acting like it._

All of this was being said to the corner of her mind that would happily have her sitting in the mess, ogling at Kaidan as he did whatever tech stuff he did. Damn it, he was driving her insane. Insane commanders did not make for very alive ones later on down the road.

And he made her blush! She _never _blushed. She wanted to wipe that smug grin off of his face, no matter how much she liked it.

Curse him. Curse him and his sudden spurt of confidence.

Not that crazy Prothean visions helped the situation any. It was hard to concentrate on your own thoughts when you had alien ones butting in where they weren't supposed to be. She guessed that as long as she didn't start speaking Prothean, she was set. It still didn't make things easy.

She sighed. Her head hurt.

There was no use in denying the fact that she found him attractive, because he was. And there was no use in denying the fact that the quiet, brooding demeanor he gave off at times was also attractive. So were his pitiful attempts at comebacks when she had him flustered. Or that look he gave her when he wasn't quite sure what she was thinking. Or that other look, which she was going to dub The Look, when she got just a little too crazy out on the battlefield and he could see the chaos that was about to follow it. Or that mischievous, boyish grin that he had just given her. Or—

She lightly banged her forehead against the bulkhead. Damn it. She was at it again. Correction: _He _was at it again. Whether he knew it or not.

She wasn't good with this type of thing. Relationships in general weren't her thing. There was too much emotional connection involved with it. Too much raging hormones and thoughts, and military life didn't do much to alleviate any of that. Too much "I never see you" and "You care more about your job than me." It was true, and who was she to say it wasn't? The Alliance meant more to her than a lot of things, definitely more so than some guy. But then again, she figured Kaidan wasn't just 'some guy.' He had somehow evaded all the barriers and precautions she put up to avoid this type of thing without even trying.

She hit her head against the metal. Her head really hurt. And her face felt warm. And Hackett was waiting for her to drag her disheveled ass into the comm room. And she was really looking forward to getting back to the Citadel to toss back a couple of scotches.

But most of all her head hurt.

/ - /

Explosives.

It always had to be something that exploded. But it wasn't something as easy as a land mine or a grenade this time. She could handle those. She could dismantle them. She could arm them. No. This time, the galaxy pulled out the big guns.

This was a fucking _NUKE_.

A nuclear bomb. A Hiroshima-kind of nuclear bomb. Twenty kilotons of pure Fuck You. And was she trained in this sort of thing?

Hell no.

Damn the Alliance and their "We didn't quite think this all the way through" plans. Sending espionage probes into deep space with a little extra something. Hell, if this thing went off, there wasn't going to be much of her left. Particles maybe, but that was pushing it. It wasn't much to send back to the parents. Just a 'Sorry' note from the brass and a lame ass excuse as to how their daughter died.

And so Kaidan got to tag along. Shepard would have gladly left him back on the Normandy after how much of a fool she had made of herself, and she had given it some serious consideration too, but an explosive this large wasn't in her area of expertise. It was for Kaidan. Somewhat. She didn't remember reading anything in his files pertaining to just how many nuclear-fusion bombs he had neutralized in his career, but it had to be more than her, right? That's what she was counting on.

Ashley, on the other hand, didn't have a tactical use on this mission. She was brought along more out of pity than combat reasons. Shepard had seen how much she was itching to go groundside after being cooped up with Wrex and Garrus for the past week, so she figured she would let the Chief stretch out her legs a bit. Ash had been all too eager to suit up.

They stood on Agebinium, a small terrestrial planet in the Amazon System of the Voyager Cluster. It had an atmosphere thinner than a krogan's chances to produce offspring, composed of carbon dioxide and krypton, which meant it was a helmet and O2 respirator mission. Her favorite.

Kaidan was busy on his omni-tool, professional as always and fully concentrated on the assignment. "Signal appears to be originating from the mine shaft." He looked up at her, the only thing visible through his helmet being his soft brown eyes. "That thing didn't crash here, someone moved it."

It was too easy. "Your gasp of the obvious is inspiring, Alenko." She said, holding his gaze for a moment, only slightly disappointed that her own helmet obscured most of her face. She would have loved to have flashed him a smug grin of her own. She paced up to the green console that glowed brightly against the red haze-filled air. She'd get even eventually. "C'mon. Whoever carried that in may not know what they have. I doubt they want to find out."

Ashley fell in next to Kaidan as they entered the tunnel. "You walked right into that one, LT," she snickered.

Shepard smiled. Ash was a good soldier, and was proving to be an even better friend. She'd admit that she hadn't spent as much time getting to know her as she would have liked, but she hoped to change that once they returned to the Citadel to give Anderson a debrief. A few days of shore leave would do the crew some good.

Looking around, the mine wasn't anything special. Large crates were scattered everywhere and machinery spotted the underground cavern, small puddles reflecting what little light there was as they stepped through them, soft splashes echoing against the walls. Shepard shivered, hoping it wasn't notable. She hated being underground.

"Pan out and see if we can find this thing." She instructed, "It's an unmarked space probe, and it's not going to be tiny."

Ashley was checking her rifle. "What do we do if we find it, Commander?"

Did she expect to find any hostiles down here? She shrugged, "Don't set it off."

"So as long as we don't become nuclear space dust, it's a win in your book?"

Shepard nodded. "Pretty much," and inspected the clip in her pistol before holstering it and jabbing a thumb over in Kaidan's direction, "And Alenko here is our personal bomb squad. You see him running, try your best to keep up."

"Duly noted, ma'am." She heard the smile behind the helmet and saw Kaidan glance over his shoulder at her before returning to whatever he was doing.

"Don't bother looking around," he said, busy trying to unlock one of the doors that would lead farther down into the mine, "Signal is coming from down here." And before she could say anything, the pathway was cleared. Damn, he was good at what he did; accurate too, because sure enough, the Alliance death trap was waiting for them in the confines of the small carved-out room.

Shepard knelt down next to the heap of bulbous metal, a hand on its surface looking for an access point while her mind was trying to process how it even got into the mine shaft to begin with. The fact that it was down here didn't sit well in her gut.

"Why the hell would someone—"

A shockwave rippled through the floor, the earthy thud of a distance explosion falling in time with a single beat of her heart, as dust and rock particles rained down on them.

She knew a trap when she fell into one. And damn it ifshe didn't knew better. God, she knew better than to blindly wander into a mine that was sketchy to begin with, to ignore the warning klaxon that had gone off in her subconscious before they even entered the structure, but it didn't change the fact that the three of them were stuck in a mine with a lost piece of classified Alliance history that could potentially ruin their day.

And when the red hologram materialized in front of her, she knew her day was just going downhill from there.

"Shepard. At last."

She knew his voice.

"_Your men will perish, and your women and children will scream as a hail of fire consumes them all. You shall see what the Verge thinks of your kind."_

She felt the white hot burning of unbridled hate uncoil inside her, rearing its ugly head from whatever grave she had buried it in years ago, quickly spreading through her veins as her heart beat out an increasingly faster rhythm.

She would _never_ forget his voice.

"Elanos Haliat. What fucking hole did you crawl out of?" The resentment that had clung to her voice came off as a steeled calm with a touch of irritation, but it veiled the almost overwhelming emotion. She had never seen his face, but there was no chance that the heavy brogue of his voice would ever fade from her memory.

He grinned. "I'm impressed that you even know who I am."

"Cut the damn pleasantries Haliat and just tell me why the hell you're messing with an Alliance warhead. Even you aren't that stupid."

The shifting hologram shook his head in mock disappointment, "I'm just returning a piece of lost property to the Alliance. Think of it as a gift from me to the Hero of the Blitz."

She wanted to scream out in anger and mercilessly riddle the image before her full of bullets, but she knew that that was what Haliat wanted. He wanted a reaction, something beyond her just being ticked that his sleazy ass still roamed the galaxy. So she repeated a steady mantra in her head, trying to cool the hatred that made her hand twitch with deadly intent at her side.

"How kind of you." She sighed, playing up her own concoction of regret before fixing a cold stare on him, "Would have been better if you gave it in person, though."

"Like you said yourself, I'm not that stupid." He dipped his head, "Good-bye, Commander."

"I'll be seeing you soon enough, Haliat. You can count on it." What she said wasn't a promise, it was a threat. And she never wrote a check that she couldn't cash.

He laughed, an odd feeling of déjà vu gripping her. "I rather doubt that."

He had said that then too.

/ - /

Her vision washed white from the intensity of light from Agebinium's double suns, her eyes quickly adjusting. Rage drove her on, canceling out questions that Kaidan tossed at her and gave her mind one clear, purpose that shone through the haze the clouded her thoughts.

Kill Elanos Haliat.

They came to a cliff, the edge sloping down into a small camp at the base, a myriad of mercenaries and pirates waiting below. Shepard knew Haliat was among them, probably boasting about his accomplishments and how he just blown her into oblivion. But it hadn't worked out that way. Within seconds of scanning the soon-to-be battlefield, she and her team released a fusillade of gunfire from their vantage point, tearing apart their enemy's numbers faster than the bastards could regroup.

Armed with her sniper, she zeroed in on Haliat near a vehicle that resembled the MAKO and placed a round into his leg with expert precision, seeing blood spurt from the wound and him drop to the ground. She jogged down to retrieve her quarry, picking his writhing body up and threw him against the small tank, hearing a choked retort die as she pinned an arm across his throat.

"Commander!" Kaidan's voice sounded in her helmet; a sharp warning, though she didn't really hear him. Too preoccupied.

Haliat moved to throw a punch to her facemask, but didn't see the right hook coming until he felt the impact of the blow to his ribs. Shepard felt the satisfying crunch of ribs snapping, heard the sharp intake of breath and a hissed curse through clenched teeth. Her own hand stung, the pirate's hardsuit offering more resistance than she would have liked, but the pain was numbed, adrenaline fueling her every move. Another hit, same place as the last, same amount of force. That one punctured a lung, his breathing becoming instantaneously shallower. And another, just for good measure.

"Shepard, stop!"

He gasped, his knees buckling beneath him as she allowed him to crumple to the ground, gripping his side. She used her boot to roll him to his back and latched a hand under his helmet as she pinned him into the dusty surface with her weight. Haliat's pathetic attempt to fight back was interrupted, Shepard smacking his helmet against the ground.

She wanted to rattle off the statistics of the Skyllian Blitz. Tell him the amount of innocent people that died at his hand, the names of the families he destroyed that day. She wanted to tell about him the children that would never see a mother or a father, or the children that would never get the chance to live at all. She wanted to put him through the exact hell he forced them through, every agonizing second, every fear-filled minute. The years of pain afterwards of an empty spot in a husband's bed or a teddy bear that would never be hugged. She wanted the bastard to suffer.

Her fingers moved to the disengage lock on his helmet, a frightened hand grasping at her wrist, it pleading for the man who couldn't. Through the cracked facemask, she could see the fear in his murky eyes. She wished she could hear him beg for his life like so many had begged an unknown god to spare their loved ones in the days following the attack. She wished he could have personally seen the countless rows of body bags that covered the area around the hospital, an image that was forever burned into her memory.

The cool hiss of venting oxygen brushed over her fingers as she broke the seal of Haliat's hardsuit, just as a strong hand hauled her off of the man. She stumbled back but never took her gaze off of her enemy, and she watched him die with the cold calculating stare that she imagined he had as his makeshift fleet of slavers and pirates laid waste to Elysium.

Her only regret was that his death had been over far too soon.


	16. One Step Back

**AN: **This one is pretty short compared to the other chapters, but anything longer and I feel that it would have lost its effect.

- Tac

* * *

><p><strong>One Step Back<strong>

"Commander, what the hell happened down there?"

She was ignoring him, pulling at her armor, not even acknowledging his hand on her shoulder. He let it fall to his side, watching her as she scrutinized the blood that covered her gloved hands before tossing them into her locker.

He had seen her kill people before. It was a part of the job, and at the end of the day, she did her job well. She protected the innocent and made the galaxy safer one shot at a time. But what happened down on Agebinium wasn't her just killing a man; she was settling a score.

"Shepard, you murdered him."

He saw the slight twitch in her shoulders and she looked over at him, controlled anger flashing in her blue eyes. "I wasn't about to ask him out for drinks, that's for damn sure."

At least she was paying attention to him. It was better than the heavy silence that refused to dissipate during the shuttle ride back to the Normandy. "But that doesn't explain why you killed him like that. There was no need—"

"Look, if you're expecting an apology for my actions, there won't be one." She turned back to her equipment, rummaging through its contents. "I don't expect you to understand."

Despite the finality in her voice, the one that told him she was in no mood to be discussing such matters, Kaidan was willing to risk his new-found informality with her to push the matter. "Then help me understand. Shepard—" He forced her to turn and face him, an action that he almost anticipated a scathing reprimand for. It never came. "We could have brought Haliat in, turned him over to the Alliance and he would have rotted in jail for the rest of his life. But you just flat-out killed him."

"Drop it Kaidan."

She shook her head, moving away and unceremoniously shoving the rest of her hardsuit into the small compartment. "If you truly understood the magnitude of what happened, you would see that what I did to him was more than he deserved."

He tried again. "Tell me what happened on Elysium."

The Blitz had been a massacre. He had seen the news coverage, remembered crowding around the holoscreen in the comm room with the rest of the crew, the uneasy feeling of dread making them all on edge. It was a personal attack on humanity, and most were powerless to help, only able to watch the perfectly groomed reporter do little justice to the scenes of chaos behind her. No one dared to breathe, for all they knew, it could spell the destruction of the colony.

And Shepard had stopped it, held off the entire enemy fleet of ten thousand batarians for thirteen hours with little more than what she was outfitted with now. But it came at a heavy price; one that apparently haunted her still, six years after the fact.

For a brief moment, he thought that she was going to cave; her shoulders slumped, a hand hesitated on the locker as she seemed to search the barren wall before her for unspoken answers—but a breathed sigh, resignation as obvious as her anger had been, told him otherwise.

"I'm not nearly drunk enough to do that."

And she walked away, without giving so much as an apologetic glance or her customary pat on the shoulder.


	17. Standing on the Edge

**AN: **And with this, you guys are caught up to what I have written at this point. Working on the next chapter right now as we speak.

This has a lot more focus on Shepard and Kaidan's budding relationship. After this, there will be a lot more to it, but I had to develop it as it was developed in the game. They didn't just throw themselves at one another right off the bat. But fear not, there will be much wonderful Shenko in the chapters to come. ;) Took a lot of will power to drag it out as long as I did.

- Tac

* * *

><p><strong>Standing on the Edge<strong>

The door closed behind her without as much as an accusing glare. She took comfort in the silent presence of that simple door. It didn't judge. It didn't question. It didn't ask why. It just stood there acting as a soundless barrier, protecting her thoughts and hiding her imperfections from those that comprised her small world on the Normandy. Because that was what she felt like: one, giant motley mix of imperfections.

She slumped against the wall and allowed herself to slide to the floor. If she was finding solace in a door, then she really had lost it.

But despite the whirlwind and nostalgia and the slight touch of insanity keeping a tight guard around her mind; making Haliat's death feel surreal, almost intangible—she knew she did it. She had consciously signed his death warrant, made the bastard choke on carbon dioxide and krypton. And the galaxy was a better place because it. She had avenged all of those who were lost on Elysium. She had made up for her failures.

So if she knew all of this, then why did Kaidan's shocked comments weigh so heavily on her? Why had a twinge of guilt rooted itself in her gut?

She titled her head back, staring up at the gloomy ceiling, searching the murky darkness for answers. She sure as hell didn't feel bad for killing Haliat. He didn't deserve sympathy, mercy, or a chance at a reprieve. So why did she feel like she had just kicked a puppy?

**You shut him out.**

Shepard shook her head at the silent voice.

_He, of all people, is not the reason._

**You gave him a little room; you let your guard down and when he got too close for comfort, you panicked and threw up the barriers.**

_I don't have barriers. Not from my crew. Not from anyone._

**Not all the time, but you do. You have Commander Shepard, the CO, the superior officer.**

_I _am_ Commander Shepard._

**No, you are Jamie Shepard.**

_What difference does it make?_

**It makes all the difference in the world.**

_I don't see how it could_.

**Because you can't. You're so busy living up to what you think people see you as, you don't realize it. You hide behind this image of grandeur; sometimes willingly, and other times unwillingly. **

_You make it sound like I'm in denial._

**Perhaps you are. Perhaps not.**

_I'm not. And how does this play into everything?_

**You weren't Commander Shepard today, and Kaidan picked up on that. When he confronted you about it, he wanted to confront **_**you**_**, but you gave him the Commander. You shut him out. You pushed him away.**

_He was being unprofessional._

**As were you. But that has nothing to do with it.**

_So I feel guilty because I snapped at him? Because I refused to help him understand?_

**You know why.**

_Enlighten me._

The voice of reason didn't reply. Shepard was grateful for it. Reason had the knack of showing up when it was the least wanted, not to mention that it was also a fickle little imagining. Never going along with what she thought, always taking the opposite argument or telling her what she really didn't want to hear. Of course, Shepard was well aware that she was essentially arguing with herself, and the annoying gnat she had named Reason was in fact just her trying to convince herself otherwise. Nonetheless, she knew it was a process that helped her organize her thoughts, as crazy as it made her feel.

But in all honesty, she couldn't believe it. Out of everything that had happened today, everything that she did, she wasn't going to lose sleep over Haliat; Kaidan was to be the cause of her sleepless night. It didn't make sense.

She chuckled, one made more out of futility than humor, shaking her head at the mere thought and pushed herself up from the floor, only to collapse on the bed a moment later.

Everything she had asked herself up until now wasn't important. The real question that was to be asked—that almost needed to be asked— was why Elysium was the only thing in her life that she couldn't file away in a neat little drawer. Why she couldn't get over the past. Why she didn't _want_ to get over it. Not yet.

And as if on cue, when she closed her eyes, she was greeted by their faces, the ones holding the chain that kept her fixed in time; a mass of people just staring at her, neither an accusation nor animosity reflected in their eyes.

_Rick Davis_

_Molly Prichard_

_George Niles_

She could still go through their names, just as she had before; she could see herself interweaving through the crowd, listing off name after name like they had been written on a label and stuck to each individual.

_Twenty-seven._

She opened her eyes to the dim of the room. Shepard felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff. Below her was the uncertain future, clouded, gray and shifting, but not necessarily threatening. The edge itself was a decision, and just behind that was the warning sign. What the decision was exactly, she didn't know, but the warning—Alliance regulations, everything that her parents taught her, her own sub-conscious, common sense—kept trying to get her attention and to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground. It knew what could possibly happen if she took that step over the edge, even if she didn't.

It knew that if she did take the plunge, there would be no going back.

/ - /

_**A single step. Small, insignificant. There was time to turn back.**_

"Hey."

Kaidan's gaze snapped from the coffee that he had been intently staring into, barley keeping a less-than-masculine squeak under wraps. He blinked at her, remaining silent as his words failed. Shepard didn't know if that was a good or a bad sign. They hadn't spoken since he had cornered her in the armory, the days it took them to reach the Citadel being spent in pacifist professionalism.

"Something wrong with it?" She asked, pouring herself a cup.

He glanced back down at the mug in his hands before looking up again. "What?"

"Your coffee." She took a sip, grimacing at its strength. Pressly had been the one to make this batch, no doubt. There wasn't an amount of crème or sugar could take the edge out of it when he did. "You were looking at it as if might explode or something. Though if our navigator's hands were involved, then I wouldn't be surprised." She added with mild disdain, taking another sip. Hell, coffee was coffee, even if one cup was more likely to put hair on your chest than any other.

The comment earned her a faint smirk, but it looked hesitant, nervous. No. Maybe nervous wasn't the right word. Shepard didn't know how to explain it. All she knew is that it wasn't good.

"Uh, yeah. It's fine."

She inwardly sighed. Her attempt at small talk was crashing, and it was crashing hard. And who could blame him? She'd had all but torn this throat out the last time. She'd be wary too if the positions had been switched.

_Just jump right in Shepard. The worst he can do it decline._

"Your shift just ended, right?" It was a question asked out of mere formality. She knew his schedule, just as she knew everyone's on the ship, and it did her no good to beat around the bush, so to speak. "How about you and I go grab a couple of drinks?"

"Drinks, Commander?"

_Work with me here, Kaidan…_

"Yes, preferably of the alcoholic kind." She said with a short laugh, "Figured I try and pry you from the ship for a little while. You need the fresh air."

He contemplated her offer, a look of muted astonishment never quite leaving his face. The man wore his emotions on his sleeve. And right now? He wasn't overly convinced with her proposal.

She crossed her arms, raising a sculpted eyebrow. "C'mon Kaidan, I'm buying. That doesn't happen often."

His resolve seemed to weaken as he leaned back in his chair, "Well, as long as it's on your tab, ma'am."

Shepard clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Fantastic." She downed the rest of the coffee in one gulp and shuddered. "Truthfully, anything is better than this."

"Don't let Pressly hear you. He'd be offended."

"Well frankly, his coffee _is_ offensive. I prefer to be gently coaxed out of bed, not smacked in the face."

He chuckled, shaking his head at her. Chuckling was good. It was as start.

"Whatever you say, Shepard."

_**Another step closer. The warning spoke.**_

/ - /

Shepard stretched, messing with her fragile balance and causing her to bump into the man next to her, hating herself as an unintentional giggle escaped her lips. Why had she allowed Kaidan to buy the first round? And why had she allowed it to be wine? Wine was good and all, but it made her slightly giggly. She _hated _being giggly.

"Careful there Commander," he said, amused. "Bit too much to drink?"

She scoffed at him, jogging ahead a couple of feet before she turned to face him, walking backwards as she did; a display to prove to him that she had no where neared her limit. Sure, she could feel that warm buzz tingling through her, but she wasn't about to be falling over herself.

"Not even close, Alenko."

She stopped to look over the Presidium, lights dimmed and the artificial sky above darkening, letting through the first stars of the perpetual night beyond the arms of the Citadel. It had been a pleasant evening, despite starting out painfully awkward; your typical drawn out 'Sooo…' and awful conversation starters. Things did eventually smooth out into just two friends sharing drinks and swapping stories. It didn't get boisterous as it would have if the rest of the crew had tagged along, but it was still enjoyable—

"Stop! Thief!"

Shepard straightened at the sound, snapping around with the railing of the lower bridge against her back in time to see a blurred form shove past her, sending her toppling over. She heard Kaidan call out to her as she splashed into the waters below, momentarily surrounded by cold shimmering forms before surfacing once again, coughing.

"Shepard!"

She swam over to the edge of the pool as best as she could with combat boots on and hoisted herself out of the water, Kaidan grabbing her arm to help.

"You alright Shepard?"

"Did you—" she doubled over, another fit of coughing taking hold, bracing her hands against her knees as her body tried to get rid of the water she had inhaled in her sudden plunge. A few seconds passed, and her coughing had subsided enough for her to force out a question. "Did you catch the bastard? Because if you didn't, I'm chasing him down."

"C-Sec has him in custody."

"Good, then I'm throwing him into the lake. See how he likes it." She grumbled, looking over in the general direction where she thought her assailant to be.

Kaidan cleared his throat and nodded towards her form before she could break off into a sprint to catch up with the officers. "Perhaps you should just vote for a change of outfit."

Shepard glanced down at herself and groaned. As expected, she was soaked through and through, her fatigues seemingly clinging to her for dear life and small droplets of water dripping spotting the Presidium floor.

She sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right…" She took a step forward and her boot made an awful squelching noise, which enticed a laugh from Kaidan. He attempted to smother it as she turned to roll her eyes at him.

"Laugh it up, Alenko." Another step, another dreadful noise, and another snicker. She shoved her hands into her pockets and kept walking, waiting for the right moment as he fell in step with her, a smirk never leaving his face. Her timing had to be perfect…

_**Even closer. Past the warning. The edge was drawing near.**_

"Just know that this is the one and only time you'll ever see me wet, Kaidan."

His steps faltered, and she didn't have to turn around to know that his face had lit up into red-hued shock, but she did anyway, just to toss a triumphant grin at him.

"Payback's a bitch." She laughed, continuing her pace until she reached an elevator, by which Kaidan had finally recovered and joined her again.

"The Normandy is the other way." he interjected.

"I know that." She touched the call button, "My apartment is this way."

"Apartment?"

She tapped her foot, waiting for the doors to open. "Yeah, my apartment. The Council provides one for all of their Spectre operatives. One of the perks, I guess." She explained, the doors sliding open. "I'm not traipsing through the ship looking like a half-drowned rat."

"Oh."

"You're welcome to tag along if you wish." She offered, stepping in and holding out an arm to deter the doors from closing. "Not going to be overly exciting, but I could use some help unpacking while my uniform—" She shifted her weight and was reminded just how water-logged her boots really were. "—and boots dry."

Although looking visibly torn, Kaidan nodded wordlessly and joined her in the lift, giving her a quick, shy smile.

_**Turn back.**_

/ - /

"The Edmonton Blood Dragons?"

Shepard had just walked out of the bedroom when Kaidan had looked up from the box he was sifting through; one of the many that littered her apartment floor. She glanced down at the red dragon that adorned the sleeve of the jersey she was wearing. "Yes, the Blood Dragons. You've got a problem with them?"

He shook his head, turning his attention back to the contents he was pulling out; just a bunch of books and files that were usually piled high on her desk. "Just never thought you were the sports fan."

"You can't go wrong with them."

"Exactly how many games have they won this season?"

She picked up a box and resisted the urge to toss it at him for the intentional jab at her favorite team. "They're just having a rough year." She argued, "The refs always penalize them for no good reason."

"Didn't one of the Dragons break an opponent's leg the last game?"

"There's bound to be spilt blood and broken bones—"

Kaidan flashed her a knowing glance, brow raised. "Didn't one of the Dragons _purposely _break the guy's leg?"

She snorted, not bothering to answer him. The guy had it coming.

She sat on the small couch, going through yet another box. She didn't own much, but when there had been little time to pack everything neatly, her personal items seemed to take up more space than was usually needed. Next to her was probably the only box that she had taken care in bundling. It contained all of the accommodations and medals she had received over her past eleven years of service; neatly stacked and fitted in the confines of the container. Directly on top was her Star of Terra, encased in the small clear box as it had the day it was given to her, the metal glowing softly. She moved to ghost her fingers across the smooth, unmarked glass.

"Really? Blasto movies?" A pause, the sound of shifting items.

"If you're going to judge every single personal artifact that I own, I'll just send you back to the Normandy, Lieutenant."

He didn't answer her right away as something else had caught his attention. She was beginning to think that she should have left him back on the Presidium.

"Hey Shepard, who are these people?"

She looked up to see that he was holding a small holo, brown eyes fixed the faces of different men and woman silently scrolling across. Her stomach sank. It was too much to hope he hadn't stumbled across the one thing she would have kept hidden.

_Twenty-seven faces…_

She exhaled and paced over to where he was, gently taking the device from his hand. "They're…" She debated actually telling him. A quick lie of submission would be so much simpler. "They're a squad I served with." Not exactly a lie, but not exactly the truth. A compromise.

He almost accepted the statement, but she felt him look at her and knew that he picked up on something, and he was too damn perceptive to be able to let it go.

"Elysium, right?"

Damn it. Her past seemed to be frequently catching up with her this past week, that much was certain.

She fixed a look on him, tired of dodging questions. "You want to know what happened that day?" She tossed the holo onto the couch and pointed at it. "I led those twenty-seven people into battle and to their deaths."

_She looked into the faces of the men and women before her; faces of fear, faces of determination, faces of those who were about to give their lives to protect Elysium. For a split second, she could see them all as bloodied corpses, her own self among the casualties. She could see her impending failure._

"I knew our chances were slim, and yet I still promised them that I would get them through it."

"_You colony and home has been threatened, but I assure you that I will return you to your families. This is not your last day."_

"George Niles had two sons and a daughter on the way, and he bled out when a grenade blew off both his legs. Rebecca Lewis was going to be married in two weeks, and she died in John's arms, her fiancé, just as some Batarian punch a bullet through his head."

_Their defenses broke, and she ordered them to fall back. The mercs were tearing them apart. Screams, the smell of blood and death surrounded her. An explosion not too far off. Damn it, they were just civilians. They weren't trained for this._

"Rick Davis was a good kid, not even twenty yet. He had his whole life ahead of him and he was gunned down before we even got to our destination."

_She was alone, pinned down behind a crumbled building, bullets flying around her._

Shepard moved away from Kaidan and picked up the pictures again, a woman's face looking up from her palm. "Molly Pritchard. She reminded me a lot of my own mother; strong and determined, steady. But the woman couldn't hold a gun to save her life, and said that she was going along to help care for the wounded." She looked back at Kaidan, muted anger seeping into her words; anger that was not directed towards him, but herself. "She would have lived had I been able to convince her not to go. By the time we actually got to the position we needed to hold, I had five people left, and they were all dead within the first ten minutes of combat."

The holo was haphazardly tossed back onto the couch. She was sick of looking at them.

Finding the small apartment uncomfortably warm, she walked out onto the adjoining balcony, the cool breeze coming as a blessing. She paused to see if Kaidan would say something when he appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame, maybe try to convince her that it wasn't her fault or to sympathize with her, for which she was prepared to lash out. Much to her surprise, he didn't.

"The Alliance doesn't train you for the day that you have to decide who lives and who dies. They just sort of throw you into the water and hope that you don't drown."

_A mournful wail sounded from a nearby room, tearing Shepard's attention away from the growing crowd around her. She politely made her way through the masses, careful not to irritate her own injures and came to a stop at the doorway. A woman lay in the hospital bed, more bandages than person, the smell of burnt flesh and disinfectant making Shepard's stomach churn. A man next to the bed, gripping the darkened hand looked up, tears streaming down his face. The woman had died._

"_You. You're the one everyone's calling a hero."_

_Shepard opened her mouth to say something, but she didn't know what. Her words died in her throat. The man stood, legs shaking from grief, and stood before her_

"_You think you're a hero? You think you won?" Anger made his voice quake, and he suddenly gripped her wounded shoulder, causing her to cry out as he drug her over to the window, throwing open the curtains, pointing. Outside lay countless rows of dark bags. Body bags. "Look at those corpses and tell them you're a hero. Go face their families and friends and tell them what a great person you are." He spun her around to face him. "Tell me how you can be a hero if you let my baby girl die?"_

"That's why I let Haliat have it when we ran into him. If I didn't—if I had arrested him and sent him off to some prison—it wouldn't have done the thousands that died on Elysium a lick of justice. It would have been the same as letting him get away, just like he did the first time."

And there was the reason for everything. He had gotten away.

If she had been able to kill Haliat back then, all of the death wouldn't have been in vain. But she she didn't. She had allowed herself to wallow in guilt long enough afterwards to put enough space between them in which she couldn't catch up. And since then, her failure had hung over her.

What the man had said to her in the hospital was true at the time. She was no hero; not until all the loose ends had been taken care of and deaths and been avenged. She hadn't able to put the Blitz behind her until Haliat had paid in full.

"So that's it." She sighed, running a hand through her hair has she leaned against the railing, quietly laughing. "Hell of a way to spend an evening with your commanding officer, huh?"

_**She was standing on the edge, twisting uncertainty beneath…**_

"It's alright, Shepard."

She shook her head. "No, it really isn't. Hell, I don't know what's come over me lately. Trust me, I don't usually—"

She faltered as he placed his hand over her own and gave it a gentle squeeze, the action saying more than she ever would have expected. She looked down at their hands before meeting his steady gaze.

She made no effort to move her hand away.

…_**and took the final step.**_


	18. Admiration

**AN:** Here's the next chapter. Not really proud of this one, and I feel like I've definately written better. Had a difficult time getting into the character perspective in this one, so I'm not quite sure I nailed it like the others. Will be happy to hear what you guys think of it.

- Tac

* * *

><p><strong>Admiration<strong>

Liara sat in the comm room unable to keep her curious eyes from wandering, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings all the while fidgeting in her seat. She was far more used to being enclosed by thousand year old structures, and to suddenly find herself thrust into a world that now had her flanked by both a krogan and a turian, with a quarian not too far off? Well, it was not where she would have expected to find herself when she left for Therum. Of course, being trapped in a Prothean defense mechanism wasn't on that list either.

The Normandy was a fascinating vessel. The fact that such a varying crew of species could co-exist without incident seemed a miraculous feat, perhaps paled by the notion that they actually worked well with one another. It was truly captivating, considering the different backgrounds and prejudices that could be complied within such a crew. She regarded Wrex and Garrus who were engaged in casual banter. Krogans and turians typically didn't see eye to eye in most situations, as the turians had played a heavy hand in unleashing the genophage. Inevitably, both races were—more often than not—at odds with one another. The camaraderie that seemed to have formed between the two was far beyond the norm.

The doors slid open, the commanding officer of the ship walking in, pre-occupied with a rather one-sided argument with what Liara assumed to be her pilot.

"Joker, I've already apologized twice—"

"You almost melted my baby! There is _no_ apology for that."

Shepard rubbed a hand against her temple, looking up at the detached voice. "You got us out perfectly fine and the ship was in no—"

"No danger?" he finished, scoffing. "You can't go anywhere without _something_ trying to kill you. This time it just so happened to be a mountain filled with toxic gas."

She seemed to ready a retort, though it appeared to have died somewhere between not wanting to argue with the man and possibly accepting his statement as true. Liara wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"Too close, Commander." He continued, sounding snarkier by the second. "Ten more seconds and we would've been swimming in molten sulphur. The Normandy isn't equipped to land in volcanoes. They tend to fry our sensors and melt our hull. Just for future reference."

The comm clicked off without another word. Liara was shocked. In all honesty, she hadn't worked with so much as one human in her lifetime, but how different could their command structure be from that of the asari? Such blatant insubordination on an asari ship would have resulted in steep reprimands, not that she had ever served on an asari ship either.

"We almost died out there and your pilot is making jokes?"

The commander nonchalantly shrugged. "My fault for putting his ship in harm's way." She cast a glance back up, pausing for a moment before chuckling. "And besides, without him, we would have been dead. I think he's earned the right to a few bad jokes. Just ignore him."

Humans were a very confusing race.

/ - /

The dimly lit med-bay did little to calm Liara's spinning head as she tripped into the far back room, a concerned Dr. Chakwas calling after her, though the asari didn't notice. She sat down in a nearby chair, only to find herself practically buzzing with excitement and having to stand again. How could she sit when this was possibly one of the greatest days she had ever lived?

Over fifty years of studying the ancient race; hundreds of hours of research dedicated to piecing together the mystery with what little clues she could scrape together. Over fifty years of fascination and of frustration after each potential lead only brought her to yet another dead end. Everything, all of the answers to a sizable portion of her questions—the fall of the Protheans, the very essence of their culture and civilization, _everything_—was all contained in the mind of a single human woman.

And she had been lucky enough to be able to witness it firsthand.

In truth, her mind was still processing all of the information. She shouldn't have expected anything different; the Protheans history was so entirely vast that one could not simply just understand it all after a short amount of time. Which made Shepard seem all that more…intriguing. Here was a woman who not only held a prowess for tactical thought and battle, but she also could take on such an enormous amount of literal alien information and not let it destroy her in some way.

To say that the commander's mind was interesting would be an understatement, to say the least. Shepard had been reluctant to allow the melding of their minds—Liara didn't need to be an expert on human behavior to see that—but she had gone along with it anyway, willing to do what was needed to possibly figure out what Saren was up to. Liara thought that to be an admirable quality. Shepard's devotion and determination reminded Liara of herself in some ways, especially when speaking about the amount of time she had invested into her studies.

So in light of everything, it was a bit disheartening that what was in the Commander's mind was not complete. The beacon that had transferred the message on Eden Prime had to have been damaged, for she only received a portion of the message, from what Liara could infer. It would explain why Shepard didn't understand the message, even with the Cipher. What they needed was another working beacon, one that was not damaged. If they could find one, then the message could be completed.

Liara sat down once more, her nerves calming down, and faced the small console on the desk, hands poised over the keys, ready to document every last thought she had received. But when she tried to even put words to what she saw, she didn't know where to begin.

"Feeling better are we?"

Liara jumped at the voice, letting out a surprised yelp. Miscellaneous items that had once called the desk home clattered to the floor as she spun around to see who it was. Shepard was standing just beyond the threshold of the door looking fairly amused.

"Goddess!" Embarrassment warmed Liara's face as her eyes shot down to the objects that littered the floor. "I'm sorry. You let me onto your ship and I'm making a mess of things. It's just that I didn't hear you come in and I was a bit lost in my own thoughts. I have a tendency to do that sometimes, especially after what you just showed me. I mean, can you imagine? The Reapers destroyed the Protheans! Even after fifty years of research, I never imagined that the Reapers even existed! There's less information on them than the Protheans… and I'm rambling, aren't I?" Liara trailed off at the sound of Shepard laughing.

"It's alright Liara, it's alright. Glad to see that that whole mess back on Therum hasn't gotten you too shaken up." She leaned up against the wall, arms crossed casually. "I can't imagine it's been easy—"

"Easy knowing that my own mother willing joined Saren and is now trying to bring the galaxy to destruction?" Liara sighed, leaning against the table behind her, orange data pads glowing in the dim at her feet. She eyed them carefully, like they would give the answers she needed. "I don't know Shepard. She's my own mother, and I don't even know what she might be planning. I mean, how can _you _know what I'm planning? We've only known each other for a few hours, and here we are talking like we're friends. For all you know I could be plotting to destroy the Normandy from the inside out."

Shepard shrugged. "You could be. Then again, if I thought you were going to blow up the ship, then I wouldn't have let you board."

"But how do you know? How can you trust me?" Liara didn't know why she was pursuing this topic with a woman she hardly knew, or why she was attempting to plant that seed of doubt. Perhaps it was because there was a certain level of intimacy that came along with the melding of consciousnesses, and that she didn't want to betray that. She wanted Shepard to be certain that this sudden trust wasn't misplaced.

Or maybe it was because there had been no real way to sift through and decipher memory from memory during the joining. Liara had gotten an unexpected dose of Shepard's own personal experiences, many of them appearing to be from her childhood. So in some sense, she came to know the woman without actually knowing her.

"I just know it in my gut."

"Your gut?" Shepard had said it so matter-of-factly, like there was no debate in the matter. "How can you base your trust completely off of your feelings?"

The commander frowned, quirking her mouth slightly to the side. "I wouldn't exactly call it a feeling. It's more like an instinct."

"Instinct and feeling are one in the same. You need logic to separate the two."

"True, but sometimes there's just no room for logic." Liara thought that she must have looked confused, because Shepard puffed out a sigh. "How do I explain this…take Gunnery Chief Williams for example."

Liara remembered her. She was a part of the squad that rescued her. A strong and capable woman; proud too, from what she took away from their short encounter. She also remembered the Chief's watchful eyes. Not hostile, just wary.

"Ash is slow to trust people. In her book, you have to earn it before she'll give it, and it takes _a lot_ to earn her trust, mainly because her gut feeling is partially ruled over by logic. She sees a turian, and the logical thing for her to think is that if it came down between that turian saving a human or saving another turian, he'd save the turian." Shepard gave a short laugh. "Human nature, she calls it. So when she looks at an alien, it's not that she dislikes them, she's just prepared for the day they'll let her drown instead of one of their own." She shifted her weight. "She doesn't try to sugarcoat things. She just sees it like it is. That's what works for her"

Shepard pushed herself off the wall and bent down to pick up the discarded devices on the floor, talking as she did.

"If you look at Lieutenant Alenko, on the other hand, he's almost completely wrapped up in logic. He'll talk himself out of something before he even asks the question. He's cautious in his dealings with others, and the man possesses more self-discipline than anyone I know. But unlike Ash, he can see the different shades of gray that makes up the universe. He thinks about them, and then chooses the most likely of outcomes, and from there decides his actions. He also realizes that there are some instances where logic needs to be thrown out the nearest airlock to let instinct take the wheel." She returned the datapads back to their original home on the desk. "The way he reasons and rationalizes is all based from what happened to him in his past. But if you gave both Kaidan and Ashley the same scenario, both would perceive it differently, and therefore react differently."

Liara shook her head. "But how does all of this pertain to you mainly trusting your instincts?"

"What I'm trying to get at, is that logic, feeling, and instinct all have a time and a place. Each individual thinks in their own way, utilizing one or all three. But there isn't a right or a wrong way. It's all perspective." She suddenly laughed, running a hand through her short hair. "I'm sorry Liara. That probably made no sense. It sounded a lot more philosophical in my head. To tell you the truth, no one has ever asked me something like that."

No. What Shepard had said made much more sense than she realized. Such insight from a human was surprising, and something that she hadn't expected, especially on an Alliance vessel. Liara had always viewed Shepard's kind to be a brash and stubborn race that cared little for such observations. She realized that there were many that fit that very stereotype, but she also realized that there could be more that shared the commander's opinion. Perhaps she had been too quick to judge the younger race.

"So, from your perspective commander, is my mother a bad person? Did she truly wish to bring me harm, her own daughter, by aiding Saren and not stopping the geth from attacking the ruins on Therum?"

Shepard thought for a moment. "Does it really matter what I think? What do you think?"

Liara opened her mouth to say something, but closed it when she found she didn't know what to say. While she and her mother hadn't spoken for quite some time, they were nowhere near on bad terms. In fact, Liara found that she had some very fond memories from her childhood. But Benezia had gone to Saren to help him, perhaps aware of what he was planning. Was a person that would do something so willingly be a good person, no matter what she was like before?

"I don't know Shepard. I would like to think that she isn't, but—"

"Then that has to be good enough for now."

Liara wasn't sure she completely believed her, but it was somewhat comforting knowing that Shepard trusted her despite it all. She watched as the woman stretched, trying to stifle a yawn.

"I should go. Still have some reports to fill out for the Council, and you would do well to get some rest."

Liara nodded. "Thank you, Shepard."

She turned, hand halting just before the green console."For what?"

"For making me feel welcome. I've never had much experience with humans before, so this is all quite new to me, but I can see why the Council has put so much faith in you."

She chuckled, "Glad you do, because I still feel like they're jerking my chain, but thanks, nonetheless."

Jerking her chain? She decided that she would have to better acquaint herself with human sayings later on. Liara faced her console once more, feeling that the beginning she couldn't find earlier was now within her grasp. Her fingers began to dance across the keys. The beginning. She simply had to start from the beginning.

"Liara?"

She hadn't noticed that Shepard was still there."Hm?"

"Welcome aboard the Normandy."


	19. Shiny Objects

**AN: **Well, this chapter was written with relatively less frustration from me than the last one. And it's much more interesting, in my opinion. But truth be told, I'm excited to write the next chapter. It's an idea that has been bouncing around in my head for months, and I've been dying to get to it.

Just a quick favor to ask. The last part of this sounds forced to me, but I wanted to know if that's what you guys get from it. I was going back and forth with myself whether ot not to keep it or just cut it entirely. So if you have the time, let me know if I need to re-work it. :)

And a shout out to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, adding, and just all around supporting me and _Nowhere To Go But Forward_. Means so much to me to hear your thoughts and criticism! So THANK YOU!

- Tac

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><p><strong>Shiny Objects<strong>

Garrus stretched out in the MAKO, hands interlocking behind his head as he leaned back, resting his feet on the dashboard and stared out at the lush green landscape before him. It would have been a nice place to vacation one day. Too bad the air would kill all of them if they tried to go out without their helmets.

He glanced over at Shepard in the driver's seat beside him, who was currently drumming the wheel with intent purpose. Probably trying to figure out how she was going to find a single data module in a colony inundated by pyjaks, no doubt. She kept looking down at the radar and then looking back up before returning back to the monitor, brow furrowed. Perhaps it would have been better if the geth had gotten to it first.

"That admiral of yours never wants to send you anywhere nice, does he?"

She sighed, sinking back into her seat, giving up on whatever tactical plan she was trying to come up with. "No, he really doesn't." She reached down and tossed him his rifle. "C'mon. Doubt those pyjaks are going to give us that module willingly."

"Lawful search and seizure?"

"Oh yeah."

Garrus laughed, fixing his rifle in place before latching on his helmet. "Why do I get the feeling that you aren't a small critter person?"

"Because I'm not. Cats, yes. Hamsters too. I like the small furry things. Space monkeys?" She twisted out of her seat and hit the door release on the MAKO, oxygen venting out of the small tank with a hiss as it depressurized. "Not so much."

"What the hell is a cat?" Wrex was the last out of the vehicle, the MAKO's entire body quivering with the krogan's exit, seemingly happy that it wasn't weighed down so much. Spirits, he was huge. Garrus was reminded daily just how glad he was that Wrex was on their side. He would have hated having to face him on the battlefield. There was no doubt in his mind that the krogan would decorate the wall with him if it ever came down to it, and he was in no rush to prove that assumption.

Garrus walked up to a nearby pyjak, only half listening to Shepard's reply. The small creature heeded his approach with little interest. Stupid thing.

"So you don't eat them? Then what's the point?"

Did Wrex want to eat everything?

Garrus grabbed one of the pyjaks that happened to have crossed his path and pulled it up by its tail. Damn thing didn't seem to care one bit, just allowed itself to be hoisted into the air by something four times its size without a sound. He held it in front of his faceplate. It cocked its head to the side and chirped at him like pyjaks do. Garrus had to reiterate his earlier statement. Pyjaks were _really _dumb creatures. It was a mystery as to how the species even lived to survive this long.

He dropped it back to the ground and watched as it eyed him curiously from its newly lessened vantage point before hopping off to join its brethren.

"Let's go guys. It's not here."

Garrus turned back around to see Shepard gently push a pyjak out of her way, heading back to the MAKO. Wrex did the same not too far off as he clambered inside. Well, he more or less punted the creature, but it had a similar result.

Garrus took his place in the co-pilot seat as the tank lurched forward, Shepard taking care not to hit any of the inhabitants. He would have given it to Wrex, who was stuck in the back with the artillery controls, but the guy was just too big to be able to fit up front. And even if he could, Garrus was almost certain that one wrong turn of the MAKO and the krogan would be dumped right on top of Shepard. He didn't even want to imagine how hard _those _injurieswould be to explain to her superiors.

"Just how many more colonies do we have to search?"

A heavy sigh. "Three."

He shrugged, getting comfortable. "It's not like you had anything else to do."

"Yeah, because searching space monkey by individual space monkey is a great time spender."

Two of the three colony searches turned up nothing in the way of an Alliance information module. It got to the point where Garrus could see Shepard was itching for a battle just to fight off the boredom that was threatening to overtake all of them. Chasing after pyjaks lost its appeal about twenty creatures ago.

It wasn't until they reached the final colony that Shepard seemed to be getting ready to jump out of the tank guns blazing for the simple reason of just wanting to be done with this assignment.

"Now, don't take it out on the pyjaks." He joked at her, watching as she half-heartedly tossed one to the ground when it, like so many others, didn't have what she was looking for. Garrus scanned the area, eyes falling on the rusted opening of a mine buried into the face of a hill.

"Hey Shepard, you don't think…"

She followed his gaze and mumbled a curse. "Figures."

/ - /

Small plasma rounds riddled the crates around them, the synthetic clicks of the geth echoing off the enclosed walls. The crosshairs of Garrus' scope fell onto an unsuspecting geth. A heartbeat later, it dropped to the floor in a spray of conductive fluid. He nodded in satisfaction, pulling the bolt back, the sound of the ejected heat clip hitting the rock lost in the battle. The geth had found them faster than expected.

Garrus cautioned a glance towards where Shepard was hunkered down a few feet away. She was blindly shooting from cover with what looked like a pyjak clutched securely against her hardsuit. He found he had to do a double-take just to make sure he was seeing things right. Sure enough, the small white mammal was pinned to her with her arm, leaving her only one to handle her gun; though it seemed pretty content to just go with the flow of things, even when that flow directed it straight into a firefight with the geth.

He dropped another enemy. "What's with the new pet Shepard?"

"Damn thing won't let go of the module." A pause as she attempted to reload her rifle with one hand, and a few choice words were lost in a momentary static. "And I wasn't about to let it wander into the crossfire."

A krogan battle cry rose above the chaos. Wrex was off doing typical krogan things.

Garrus shook his head. Leave it to Shepard to go from resisting the urge to run over every pyjak that had the unfortunate luck to wander into the path of the MAKO to personally protecting one from the geth.

One by one, they picked off the remaining geth. Surprisingly, they hadn't attacked the mine with a full platoon. It was just a small scouting party made up of minimal firepower. They most likely hadn't expected to meet much more resistance than the docile creatures that ambled about outside.

Once outside, Garrus watched in amusement as Shepard tried to coax her new friend to give up the small piece of technology, though the creature refused to give up its treasure. Mammal still in hand, she walked right up to the MAKO, and after what he assumed was a short debate with herself, kicked off a piece of machinery that she had deemed unnecessary. Garrus cringed at the sound of metal snapping.

The curious creature took one look at what Shepard had and what it had and promptly decided that what she had was better. It dropped the module and snatched up the metal in her hand, scampering off with it. She had just successfully used a piece of the tank as a bartering chip.

Garrus knew what waited for him when they returned to the Normandy. Repairing the MAKO from whatever hell Shepard put the tank through had been unofficially dubbed his duty, and from the looks of what she broke off, it was going to require a shipment request to be placed with the requisitions officer to fix it.

"We good to leave?"

"Just one more thing to check out." She said without any sign of remorse in her voice for the purposeful damage inflicted to the rover.

Garrus bent down low to get a closer look at the damage before following, and frowned. It definitely needed a part that he didn't have.

/ - /

He was starting to figure out that Shepard had a knack for finding oddities. Didn't matter where they were, she always found something. This giant floating orb in front of him didn't sit well in his gut. "Be careful Shepard."

She waved off his warning with a distracted hand, the foreign object in front of her commanding her full attention. Her hands ran over the sleek surface, each touch sending small ripples radiating away from the point of origin. She walked its circumference before thinking to duck underneath. Garrus suddenly had a flash of this monstrous sphere squishing the commander.

"Shepard!" he hissed.

She waved him off again. "Back compartment, third shelf, lower left corner."

"What?"

He heard her sigh. "The MAKO. In the back compartment on the third shelf you'll find that amulet the Consort gave me back on the Citadel."

"What does—?"

"There's a slot here," she explained, standing up. "I think that trinket fits."

Garrus shook his head. "Shepard, there is no way. Do you know what the chances of that are?"

"The Consort is an asari. You _never _underestimate an asari." Wrex said, leaning against the MAKO. "They're crafty. Wouldn't be surprised if she set this entire thing up."

Garrus spread his arms wide, considering Wrex's statement as further proof as to why this was a bad idea. "Even more reason not to go messing with random alien technology you find on some planet infested with pyjaks."

Shepard didn't seem to care as she traipsed past him, soon disappearing into the tank only to be back in front of the object, asari gift in hand. He caught her wrist.

"Shepard, think about this for a minute."

"It's _alright_, Garrus. Your concern is duly noted." She said, stressing the 'alright' as she pulled her arm free. "But I'm not leaving until I know what this thing is. Besides, the Consort said she thought this needed to go to me. Must have been for a reason."

"Since when do you believe in fate?"

Shepard shrugged, inserting the trinket into the slot. "I don't. Fate implies that you don't have a choice in the matter." She fixed blue gaze on him. Garrus wasn't sure if he was ever going to get over the fact that humans had such expressive eyes. "But I also don't believe in coincidences."

When the orb did nothing, he could tell that the commander was fairly disappointed just by her stance; crossed arms fell to her hips and she shifted her weight, just waiting for something to happen. And when it continued its pattern of non-responsiveness, she sighed, scuffing her boot at the stone beneath.

"Well that's a letdown." She took a step towards it, and Garrus could have sworn he heard a hum rise in the air.

"What were you expecting to happen?" Didn't Wrex hear it too?

"I don't know. Something, _anything_ really—" The second her hand connected with the silvery surface, a blinding light washed his vision white, obscuring everything for a brief moment as he flinched back.

This was _exactly _why he didn't want to mess with the freaky floating thing.

His eyesight was coming back in dark splotches when Joker's voice crackled in his helmet.

"Hey Commander, Normandy's systems just picked up this massive energy spike. Everything cool down there?"

Garrus waited for the all clear from Shepard, but her response never came. It wasn't until a slightly more concerned Joker was repeating his question when Garrus tempted a look around. Wrex was grumbling to himself near the MAKO, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his arm. And Shepard…

Shepard was limp on the ground. Shit.

Garrus moved to her side, not entirely sure what to do, if he could do anything. He sent a silent prayer up to the spirits. Or a human god. Or whatever higher being would make sure that she wasn't dead. "Joker. We came into contact with some sort of alien technology. Shepard somehow activated it, and now…" He ran an omni-tool over her, scanning her vitals. Good. She was only unconscious. "She's out cold. Better let Chakwas know to be ready."

"Got it. Get to the LZ and we'll pick you up."

He watched as Wrex sauntered over and simply plucked Shepard off the ground and tossed her over his shoulder with ease. He was _really _glad that that krogan was on their side.

Garrus snatched the chain that was attached to the amulet and pulled it free of the orb before jogging back to the rover. He didn't know why he thought to grab it. Maybe it was the small inkling that Shepard would be pissed if she found out they had left it planet-side, despite the priority of getting _her_ off planet.

"A curious varren is a dead varren." Wrex rumbled, taking his spot at the canon controls after dumping Shepard into the co-pilot seat. "Goes for humans too."

Garrus couldn't agree with him more.

/ - /

Shepard wasn't out for long. By the time they were safely on the Normandy and Garrus had handed her off to the waiting arms of Alenko, it was only about an hour before she was up and moving again like nothing had happened. He found her sitting at the mess, twirling the same small amulet around in her fingers with a clearly detached look in her eyes.

He sat down across the table, causing her attention to snap to him. "Shepard, I think it's safe to say that you should be banned from the alien technology."

"I'll have to agree with you there."

"You really should stop scaring the crew like that. A commander that passes out all the time isn't good for morale."

"I'm well aware."

"And would it be inappropriate to also say I told you so?"

"Don't push it Vakarian. But thanks for the save." She said with a laugh, the last part being spoken with sincerity.

It was nice working for an officer who actually appreciated his efforts. Never in his years working in the Citadel had his skills been considered useful. Garrus realized that being aware of that would make it difficult to leave when the time came, because he had to face it; they weren't going to be chasing down rogue spectres for forever. But anything less seemed so lacking now. He knew he would have to make the best of it until then. That included never missing a jab at the commander's driving techniques.

"Don't thank me yet. I haven't given you the bill for what it's going to cost to repair the MAKO."

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him, "Oh come on. It can't be _that_ bad."

Garrus stood, getting ready to invest some serious time in jury rigging the rover until he could get the part he needed to actually fix it. He cracked his neck. "Doesn't help that a pyjak is running around with a very expensive piece of metal right now."

All the commander had to say to that was a shrug. He was prepared to say more on the subject, but the Lieutenant had walked up with all intentions of talking to the Commander as plain as day, so Garrus quickly excused himself to the elevator. No way in hell was he going to get caught in that awkward crossfire. He had to wonder if all human courting rituals were as painful to watch as that one.

But despite it all, Garrus had to admit that working on the Normandy was infinitely better than working for C-Sec. At least Shepard kept things interesting. She never broke the same thing on the MAKO twice.


	20. Complications

**AN: **Sorry for the late update. School has been absolutely insane for the past couple weeks. I have a month left until graduation, so it's trying to get all of the end-of-the-year stuff done. But fear not! I shall have another update for you within the week! I have a feeling some of you will be itching to know what happens next. :)

And thank you to all who have provided feedback thus far. I love hearing your thoughts and reactions and truthfully, you all make me smile like a fool. As does each Favorite and add to Author Alerts. You all make me smile like a fool. I appreciate you all!

-Tac

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><p><strong>Complications<strong>

Blood.

There was so much blood.

/ - /

"Mom, be happy you don't have to deal with the Council on a regular basis, or even at all. It's like pulling teeth." Shepard pushed her food around with a distracted fork. She wasn't overly hungry. "You would think that they would be a bit more forthcoming with _something_."

"Just don't be like your father."

She laughed, stopping her rearrangement of the gelatinous blob that covered her tray—eggs, she thought—though they were a poor knock off; all of the nutritional value without the attempt to make it look edible. "Dad would just cut the channel at the first hint of bullshit. Be damned proud to do it every time, too."

Hannah echoed her laugh. "Yes he would. Speaking of your dad, have you talked with him lately?"

"No. He's been just as busy as the rest of us. You know how hard it is trying to get three different schedules on three different Alliance vessels to line up?" She took a bite of the egg. At least they didn't taste as bad as they looked. "I was lucky enough to catch you on a break."

"Just make sure to send him a message sometime. I'm sure he misses hearing from you."

"Mom—"

"I know, I know. It's just that you're off chasing god-knows-what and while I'm perfectly content with knowing you're fine, well, you know how he worries about his little blue jay."

God, her mother hadn't dusted off that childhood nickname for years, even more so since it was something that typically only her dad called her, being it his idea of a joke that just sort of stuck over time. If she felt the need drag it out, it meant that Shepard had really dropped the ball on keeping in touch; it was rather hypocritical of her to do after consistently reminding her crew to check up with family whenever they had the chance. It always resulted in her mother getting on her case.

She sighed. "He never used to be like this. Hell, before I enlisted, you'd always get after _him _for not sending something saying he was still alive and kicking."

Hannah's voice grew soft, adopting a similar tone to one she had used when she had to tell Shepard that dad wouldn't be coming home for the holidays, back when it actually mattered to her. Shepard knew an unintentional guilt trip when she heard one. "I know. Just try to keep tabs with him, okay? He does worry."

Before Shepard could answer, Joker cut in. "Hey Commander, we're about to pass through the Armstrong Cluster. You still want to check out those readings the admiral forwarded us, or should we push on to Noveria?"

"We can't afford to ignore them unfortunately. Tell the others to meet up in the comm room. I'll be there in a minute."

"Aye aye Commander."

She turned her attention back to her mother with a nonchalant shrug. "Duty calls."

"I understand. Just don't forget about that message to your dad, alright?"

Shepard propped a boot up on the table as she tightened the lacings, giving a distracted reply. "Sure thing mom."

"I'm serious Jay."

Shepard looked up at the image of her frowning mother on the screen. "I _promise_. I'll call him next chance I get, okay?" She stood and grabbed the plate of now cold eggs, quickly weighing the pros and cons of finishing them off. Unfortunately, if she and her team were preparing to go planet-side, she'd need all the calories she could get. That meant eating the cold blobs of yellow. "But I do need to go. I'll talk to you later."

"You're doing the Alliance proud, you know that sweetheart? Stay safe."

"You too mom."

With the channel closed, Shepard left her room performing a sort of balancing act, attempting to tuck her shirt in with one hand while the other still held the plate, fork precariously balanced between her teeth and all thoughts focused on what to cover in the debrief. She was rather impressed with how gracefully she spun away from a potentially messy collision with Kaidan seconds later on his way up to the CIC.

"Multi-tasking again?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, a smirk barely being kept hidden.

She gave him a slight nudge in the ribs with her elbow as she walked past and into the mess, shoveling the rest of her breakfast down before tossing the plate into the sink.

"Would I ever be doing anything else?" She joked, tucking in the rest of her shirt and giving her hair a quick once-over in a reflective surface before turning to follow him up the stairs. "So what are your thoughts on this potential geth incursion?"

"I think it's well beyond 'potential.' Based on the readings, we can assume that the geth already have a strong foothold on several planets in the cluster." He allowed her to pass him upon entering the CIC. "Commander, we're looking at a fully fledged attempt by the geth to take the system."

She returned the salute of the guards posted at the door before facing him with a frown. "The geth haven't been this hostile towards organics for years. Why now?"

"They haven't been hostile towards humanity." He corrected her, reaching forward and tapping the console for the comm room. "The quarians and the geth have been at each other since the Morning War, and that was over three centuries ago. It hasn't been a sustained war, but the effort to destroy one another is as potent as any war could be."

The door slid open and Shepard was faced with the battle-ready faces of her main squad. She gave a general curt nod, Kaidan taking his place next to Ashley. Shepard pretended not to notice the insistent gaze the Chief placed on the LT, knowing that she would be probing him with questions later. They were a few minutes late and showed up together. Ash would by itching to find out why.

"Good, you're all here. Hackett has brought to our attention that the geth have got the notion in those little flashlight heads of theirs that the Armstrong Cluster is up for the taking. Joker?"

"Yes ma'am?

"Pull up the star map of the cluster."

The galaxy map popped up on the large holo screen, the lights dimming to accommodate the brightened room. Shepard stared at the five individual systems with calculating eyes, hands clasped behind her back.

"Tali, Alenko. What can you tell me about these incursions?"

"From what the sensors could pick up," Kaidan began, "Four out of the five systems appear to have been infiltrated by the geth. For now, they seem to have left the Grissom system alone, though we can only speculate at the time."

"The geth have been running interference that has been messing with the ship's radars and communications." Tali continued, "The lieutenant and I have been working on gaining a little extra ground that would help paint a better picture of what we are dealing with, but without destroying the main source of the interference on each planet's surface—"

"We're flying in a little better than blind." Shepard sighed. She didn't like it when she couldn't see all the pieces before her. It left too many variables that needed to be considered and too much room for mistake. "That means we need to go in on foot to really know just what we're dealing with."

"We can expect an outpost to be armed—at a minimum—at platoon strength. If the geth intend to keep their hold on the system, then we'll be facing more than just simple scouts. It would be best to be heavily armed."

"Do I ever go anywhere _not _heavily armed?" She asked the turian with a grin. "Joker, what's the closest system?

"That would be Gagarin. Looks like the geth have set up shop on Rayingri."

Shepard nodded, turning to face her squad. "Then that's where we'll hit first. Lieutenant, suit up. You did wonders with our equipment back on Feros, so we're going to need you to run countermeasures against the geth's jamming devices when we reach planet side."

"Yes ma'am."

"You too Garrus. Feel like shooting up some synthetics?"

"As long as you promise to stay away from anything that looks Prothean."

"I second that request, skipper." Ashley piped in.

There was a general smothering of laughter that rippled though the room, to which Shepard rolled her eyes. She had been on the receiving end of jokes since her last brush with the Protheans, but the lightheartedness was good for the crew. With each step closer to Saren, tension rooted itself deeper and any chance they got to chip away at it was imperative. She had seen instances where stress tore units apart from the inside out and she would be damned if she let it happen to hers. If that meant dealing with a few jabs at her pride, then so be it.

It was nice to see Ashley warming up to the crew, too.

"If you're done taking shots at me," she said with a short laugh, "The rest of you can remain on standby. We don't know what we'll be facing when we get down there, so be ready to act as backup if we need it. Any questions?" She paused for a moment, but she knew there weren't going to be any. There was so little information to go on; questions would be wasted until things were clearer. She scanned the room once more before giving her crew leave. "Good. Dismissed."

The crew filed out of the comm room and she was about to head down to the armory herself when Tali stopped her.

"Shepard, can I ask you a favor?" The young quarian asked, nervously wringing her hands together.

Shepard felt for her. Perhaps out of the entire crew, Tali was the least prepared for this mission of tracking down Saren, being violently and unexpectedly thrown into the fray back on the Citadel. But instead of backing down from the challenge, she willingly put aside her Pilgrimage for a higher calling and faced it with a spunky determination that Shepard found rather admirable. She had also integrated with the Normandy crew very nicely and had a knack for the ship's technology. Engineer Adams had nothing but praise for the quarian.

"What can I do for you Tali?"

"I understand it could be difficult with bullets flying everywhere," she started, still staring at her hands, "But I wanted to ask if you could keep an eye out for anything geth related. You see, I want to bring something back to the Flotilla that has a fair amount of worth to it. It's almost _expected_ of me to because of my father. The Flotilla always needs to add ships to their numbers and we can never have enough resources but I want to bring back something of worth."

"You want something that could help you against the geth." Shepard finished, filling in the blanks. She had spent some time talking with Tali, learning about the quarians and the struggles they faced almost daily. It gave her a new-found appreciation for the Alliance and its resources. Even in the most dire of times, humanity never had to face such hardships as the quarians have.

Tali finally looked up. "Exactly. We get very few chances to actually study the geth, and to pass up an opportunity like this would be detrimental. Please Shepard, my people—"

"I don't see a problem with it. Just tell me what I should look out for."

Despite the mask that obscured her features, Shepard could see her face light up. "Really Shepard? You would do that? Oh Keelah, thank you!"

She couldn't help but smile at how Tali perked up immediately, running through different things that would come as a blessing to the quarians; any sort of salvage, a console if she ran across one. Shepard had to admit, Tali was adorable—deadly with a shotgun and one hell of a technician—but adorable nonetheless.

Before long, Shepard was at the familiar setting of her locker clipping the last of her firearms to her suit, running through possible situations in her head. Not knowing what she was dragging her squad into was maddening, and she knew she wasn't going to be able to account for everything that could happen, not even a fraction of possibilities. She bit the inside of her cheek. All of this went against Rule Fifteen.

She seemed to have been doing that a lot lately, breaking the carefully laid guidelines her father had drilled into her head time and time again. She ran through the ever growing list in her head.

Rules 9, 12, 13, 15, 19…the infractions just kept on going.

She grabbed her helmet and took the elevator down to the docking bay, knowing that Garrus and Kaidan were waiting for her. Both were leaning up against the MAKO when she entered, the tank expertly patched up from the last time she took it out.

Shepard was aware that when her eyes fell on Kaidan, she ever so slightly smiled. It was just a twitch of the lips, but it was enough for her to realize how far she into dangerous waters she was treading.

In the weeks since their discussion in her apartment, Kaidan had finally dropped some of the walls he kept around himself and opened up. He told her about BAaT and Commander Vyrnnus, all the while weaving in an underlying concern for her; which she thought was incredibly sweet, all be it unnecessary. Shepard knew that when Rahna finally came up, it was a huge vote of confidence from him when she took it all in stride and accepted it.

"Things happen that we eventually regret," she had told him, "Trust me, I have my fair share of them. But it's a necessary part of life, y'know? We can't erase them. All we can do is learn from them, and hope to god that others don't judge us because of them."

There were simpler conversations too, ones that didn't ere so much on the heavy side of things. During one night on the Citadel, the topic had turned to scars when he asked where the one that cut through her eyebrow came from. It quickly became a show and tell where one tried to one-up the other afterwards.

"My first battle wound," he explained with a laugh, running a thumb over the faint scar on his chin. "Got into a scuffle with some other kid when I was ten. Gave him a black eye and a bloody nose though, so I guess he got the worst of it."

The night had ended with her balance threatening to give way as she was laughing so hard with Kaidan in a similar state, while confused pedestrians on the Presidium looked on.

She would never openly admit it to anyone, but she could listen to him talk for hours.

It hadn't been easy for either of them to get to get to this point. Personal experiences made them wary to begin with, but the major obstacles they were having trouble getting around were the fifteen regulations telling them that they shouldn't be doing this.

With both of them being two very by-the-book kind of soldiers, fraternization was that one thing that raised all the red flags and sirens, but for the most part they had tactfully ignored them. It didn't mean that they weren't cautious. It was an unspoken agreement that on duty hours and whenever the crew was around were spent in complete professionalism, where not so much as a knowing glance would be shared between them. It was only when they were certain that they didn't have an audience that they relaxed.

Shepard was fairly certain that most of the crew remained oblivious to the growing relationship between her and Kaidan, though she was aware that Ash had figured it out almost instantaneously. She more often than not gave a mischievous grin and a wink as she left them alone at his work station or in the mess hall. Ashley had even pulled Shepard aside a few times just to ask if "the LT had balls enough to make a move on his commander yet." She was always disappointed when Shepard had nothing new to report on. She knew it wasn't going to take long before the Chief grew tired of their lack of progress and would decide to take matters into her own hands.

She paced up to her waiting ground team. "You guys ready?"

"Thought you would never ask." Garrus said, climbing into the MAKO, "And if you have nothing against it Commander, I'm driving."

"Like hell you are." Shepard almost dove into her seat to beat Garrus there, protectively gripping the wheel as she eyed him. "Mine."

"Approaching the drop sight Commander. Let me know when you children are done fighting."

"Quit while you're ahead, Vakarian." Kaidan chuckled, sitting in the back. "She'll never give it up."

With the bay doors opening, she was certain of just one thing at that point. Kaidan was going to lead her to break the one rule her father held above all others.

/ - /

"How're those countermeasures coming along?" Shepard whispered into her helmet, back against the rock and peering around to the heavily fortified outpost a half klick* ahead of her. They only had a few minutes before a patrol would find them and all hell would break loose.

"Working as fast as I can, but they have some heavy duty firewalls that will take some time getting through."

Time was the last thing they had. "Garrus, move up and cover the left flank. We need to buy Alenko some time."

"Got it."

Pressed against the rock face again, Shepard let out a breath. She had expected some heavy resistance, but nothing of this grandeur. She counted two armatures and a colossus, more than a dozen foot soldiers with some armed with rocket launchers. In the tall towers she could just make out the silhouette of a turret, each personally guarded. She glanced over to where she had parked the MAKO, seeing only Kaidan's boots from her angle. All she and Garrus had to do was hold out until he was ready.

"Incoming patrol Shepard. I think they know we're here."

Her grip tightened around the trigger of her rifle. "Steady…"

A round whizzed past and chaos erupted a second later, the synthetic clicks of the geth rising in the air. All of the enemy's firepower seemed to be focus in on her and Garrus a moment later. They could hold the geth off at these positions perhaps for five minutes, maybe six, but she had faith that Kaidan wouldn't make them wait that long.

She dropped geth after geth, steady three-burst shots tearing through their shields with little resistance. Empty clips littered the ground around her feet, another dropping to join them as she reloaded. She's have to switch weapons soon or risk her rifle overheating, to which it would only be useful as a blunt object to beat the geth back with, but she had no plans to let them get that close.

Her shielding rippled, deflecting bullets that would have been otherwise painful. "How're you holding up Garrus?"

"Two out of the four turrets have been taken out of commission, but my sniper rifle overheated and my shield reserves are taking a beating. We have to move positions soon."

It had already been about three minutes. They were past the halfway mark.

She lobbed a grenade near one of the armatures, hoping to take out one of its legs. It exploded prematurely, taking a few foot soldiers with it and raining debris on the rest. Not the outcome she had hoped for, but she wasn't going to complain.

3 : 27 : 00

Another clip fell to the ground and she resumed her methodical trigger pulling. Pop-pop-pop. A synthetic down. Pop-pop-pop. Another one. Pop—

Instead of a stream of bullets, her rifle beeped loudly in protest and the controls locked in place. She swore and threw it to the ground, pulling out her less-powerful pistol to resume holding the geth at bay. Over her headset, she could hear Garrus having similar problems.

She was showered in rock and dust a moment later as a particle beam hit the rock above her, just barely missing its intended mark. There was an explosion from a rocket not too far off.

3 : 52 : 00

"Drop ship incoming!"

She looked up, a massive ship dropping in enemy reinforcements. Damn it, they didn't have the firepower to deal with that!

4 : 03 : 00

The geth were gaining ground. They wouldn't be able to hold them off for much longer.

4 : 11 : 00

"Kaidan!"

"I need another thirty seconds, that it!"

She dropped her pistol, it suffering a similar fate as her rifle. She was down to just her shotgun and sniper and…shit, just three grenades. "You have fifteen! Make it happen!"

She accidentally clamped down on her tongue, the metallic taste of blood flooding her mouth.

4 : 21 : 00

Her shields were just about gone, the energy cells just barely hanging on to what little was left of them. They had to move…

Her hardsuit's computer suddenly came to life, the static dissipating and leaving the scanners perfectly functioning. Just in time. Despite the enemy's numbers being fewer than she had expected, the colossus was still advancing on their positions. It wasn't as much as a threat with the smaller armatures destroyed, but it was still deadly.

"Fall back!"

Kaidan provided a cover fire as she and Garrus dropped back to a safer distance, allowing her the few second she needed to devise a plan to deal with the remaining geth forces.

She split her team up to three tactical positions, having Garrus sweep right and use the last of her grenades against the colossus from that side in an effort to take down its shielding. With her rifle up and running again, she could flank left and hit it from the other side. Kaidan was left with the frontal assault as he had full energy reserves and ammunition, and his biotics would also do the most damage from there. And if all went according to plan—which she was completely prepared for it _not _to— when the colossus shorted out it would take the rest of its friends with it. Simple enough, really. It just had to work.

Praying that her suit's energy reserves would hold out just long enough, she dashed up the ridge and dove behind cover, popping out a second later to release a fusillade at the monstrosity of a geth. Her rounds harmlessly bounced off, blue momentarily shimmering around it. She looked across the field, seeing Garrus hadn't gotten into position yet. She bunkered down, bullets chipping away at the rock around her, and waited for the explosions. One second. Two. Three…there!

The colossus let out a grinding shriek, staggering from the force of Garrus' attack. Again, she rained hell down upon the geth from her vantage point and her bullets met no resistance. It was only a matter of time now.

"Take it down!"

The colossus faced an onslaught from three sides and without any added protection, the bullets ripped through precious electronics without mercy. Its massive body shuddered and listed to one side, a pulse of energy being released before it collapsed to the ground in a heap, kicking up a cloud of dust. The remaining geth that had the unfortunate luck of being near it stood no chance, and the few that were still attempting to take shots at her and her squad were dead within seconds. Shepard cringed as a sharp screech pierced her helmet as the damn thing finally died, leaving the battlefield quiet.

She collapsed against the wall covered in sweat and dirt, the adrenaline already starting to ebb away. She spat out some blood. She was looking forward to a hot shower when they got back to the Normandy.

"Garrus, report in. You still good?"

"All clear on my end. You really cut it close, Alenko."

Shepard chuckled, waiting for his response. Apparently, so was Garrus.

"Hey Alenko, did you catch that?" He jokingly repeated.

Still no response. Something wasn't right. Panic started to blossom in her chest as she pushed herself up from the ground and quickly made her way back down to Kaidan's last known position, which was still partially obscured by dust.

"Lieutenant?" She called out, looking around, her tired muscles complaining at the sudden movement. He wasn't where she had ordered him to be. She fought to keep the growing sense of fear under check. He couldn't have gone far. "Alenko, report!"

She rounded a corner and came to face the motionless colossus and the dozens of geth corpses that covered the area. Still no sign of him.

"Shepard, over here!"

She spun around, seeing Garrus' figure wave her over before kneeling down. Her feet couldn't carry her over to him fast enough.

What she saw when she reached him caused her heart to plummet.

"Kaidan!"

* * *

><p>* klick - 1000 meters  So "half a klick" is 500 meters, which is also 1500 feet.

**ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED**: Successful Cliffhanger Accomplished! - 50G


	21. That Feeling

**AN: **I know I've been away for some time, but this story had never been left in the dust. I'm back in business and will be uploading regularly now! So thank you ever so much for being patient and please enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>That Feeling<strong>

Steam clouded the mirror before her, the small bathroom feeling more like a sauna than she knew it should. Shepard wasn't sure if it was because she had been running the hot water for who-knew-how long, or if it was simply because her body refused to cool down. Perhaps it was a combination of both. Truth be told she had forgotten why she walked into the bathroom in the first place.

She reached forward to turn the water off when her hand caught her attention, still stained from the previous hours.

"That's right…" She said to the empty room. "The geth."

"_Kaidan!"_

She made a fist, gently digging her fingernails into her palm before opening it again, staring at the splotches of red. She placed it under the scorching water; dark red swirled with clear, scarlet blossoming in the sink, flooding until there was nothing left. But red gave way to pink and eventually faded back to the water's original color, washing away the evidence that was on her hand. She repeated the process with her other hand, watching the water with a tilted head as it transformed between crimson, rose, and back to clear. It passed over her fingers undeterred.

She shook her head, gripping the edge of the sink with shaky hands, knuckles paling and steam drifting around her.

"Get a hold of yourself." She mumbled, listening to the still-running faucet. Shepard wiped away some of the condensation from the mirror, small droplets of water running down the smooth surface as she revealed a streak of her reflection. Tired blue eyes stared back at her.

How many hours had it been? It felt like it had been days; days spent by meticulously going through each detail in her head with a fine-tooth comb, over and over, trying to pinpoint the moment where everything went wrong. She hadn't found it yet.

She leaned on the sink again, allowing her eyes to slip shut.

There had been so much blood.

_He was on the ground, propped up against the rock wall, hand and arm gripping his side. Her eyes fell to the growing patch of blood around him, the greedy rust-colored sand soaking it up like it was water._

_Shepard dropped to her knees beside him, moving his hand away to inspect the damage, but she couldn't see much more than torn armor and blood. A lot of blood. Pressing her hands to his abdomen was all she could do to stem the flow, messing with the settings on her omni-tool. She only had one application of medi-gel._

"_Damn it Lieutenant. What did you do…?" He winced, half-heartedly flinching away from the pressure. She could hear his labored breathing; see the shallow rise and fall of his chest._

"_Watch it there…" he quipped through a clenched jaw, his warning coming across more breathy than Shepard liked. She pressed harder to the wound, feeling that despite her efforts and the medi-gel the blood refused to stop. It had slowed, but not stopped. His breathing hitched again, a hand coming up to grip her arm. She had to get him back to the Normandy._

"_Garrus, radio in Joker! And get the extra medi-gel!" She called over her shoulder, not willing to risk inching her hands away. Her attention snapped back to Kaidan as he began to slump to one side. "C'mon Alenko, stay with me." She put more of her weight onto him, the pain bringing him back to her for the time being._ _There would come a point where that wouldn't work anymore and she would have to resort to something else. What, she didn't know. But she would cross that bridge if she had to._

_She heard the crunching of gravel and sand draw away from her, the muffled conversation between Garrus and Joker, but everything sounded like she had a blanket wrapped around her head. Nothing was crystal. All of her senses were tuned into the man who was slowly slipping from her grasp. Things were quiet._

"_Talk to me Kaidan." She needed to hear his voice. It was the one thing she could use to be sure he was still hanging on. "Talk to me." She repeated more forcefully._

_His head picked up a bit, soft brown eyes focusing on her face. "About what Commander?"_

_She flashed him a grin, offering up a conversation. "The Blood Dragons won their first game of the season yesterday."_

"_That why you were making all that noise in your quarters?" He gave a weak chuckle, his eyes slipping shut again. "Took them long enough."_

She breathed in the muggy air, glancing up at her reflection.

"Priorities. Focus on your priorities."

She had to get her mind away from the past few hours. Mulling things over to the point where details started to blur together wasn't going to help, because that's where she was heading if she didn't.

/ - /

"There you are. Why aren't you up in med-bay?"

Shepard looked up from the list of stock at Ashley and then to the tray of food she was carrying. She smiled. "That for me?"

Ashley nodded, exchanging the data pad with Shepard and tossing it to the nearby workbench. "Missed one hell of a story from Wrex, all about that ratty old armor we picked up for him a few weeks back."

She laughed. "Damn, I'll have to see if he'll be willing to give an encore."She tucked a leg under her as she perched herself on a nearby crate, balancing the tray on the other before digging in. "And thanks Chief." She must have spent the better part of the night among the supplies, moving boxes and sorting whatever she could, because she was starving.

"So why aren't you?" Ashley said after a short time.

Shepard swallowed. "Why aren't I what?"

"Up in med-bay."

She shrugged. "Because I wasn't the one bleeding everywhere."

Ashley sighed, sounding a bit more than exasperated. "Skipper…"

She feigned ignorance. "What? I had to run inventory, fill out paper work, none of which were going to get done with me sitting at the bedside of my unconscious officer." She took another bite, chewing thoughtfully, watching Ash.

"We have a requisitions officer for that."Ashley crossed her arms, a frown tugging at her mouth. "Seriously though, with how things went down there I figured you'd be more than hesitant to leave the LT. I'll admit I'm a bit surprised to see you down here."

"With him out of the game for a while, I had to get a few things squared away while I still had the downtime to get them done." She motioned with a nod, "This included."

"Again, I mention that we do have a position on the Normandy for that. You know, he's the guy who sits over there in the corner, orders those fancy guns you like so much."

Shepard ignored her with a smirk as she finished off her meal, putting the empty tray to the side, though hunger was still gnawing at her. She'd have to go forge for something later. "Not to mention Chakwas kicked me out."

"She kicked you out?" She sounded skeptical.

"Yeah. Said I'd be more useful elsewhere and respectfully requested that I leave her med-bay."

"And by respectfully requested…?"

"She damn near threw me out." Shepard laughed, looking over at Ashley with a grin. She expected her comment to lighten the gloomy mood Ash had brought into the loading bay, but she didn't find it as funny as her commander did.

"You're awful at this, you know that Shepard?"

"Apparently more so than I thought, though that is one hell of a poker face you have there. You really should think about playing cards with us sometimes. I bet you could easily clean Joker out, not that it's particularly hard to do in the first place." Ashley still didn't seem amused. Shepard gave a tired sigh, the smile fading. Ash wasn't going to let her dance around this one. "Alright, what's up?"

"What's up?" Ash fixed her with a stern gaze, jabbing towards the elevator. "What's up, is that you're down here despite the fact that the LT almost bled to death and nearly died on your watch."

"Since when are there restrictions on where I can be in the ship when there's a close call planet-side?"

"There should be when…" She dropped her voice, casually glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was in earshot. "I thought that you and he had a thing going?"

"We—" Shepard stopped herself, frowning. "It's not a 'thing.' And why should it matter? It's not like we're dating."

"I'm not saying you should handcuff yourself to the bed, but you could at least check up on him."

"Who says I haven't already?"

"I could get Joker in on this and we can check out the ship's security recordings."

"Damn it Ash, he's _unconscious_. There's not much to visit." Shepard shifted out of her seat, reaching over to grab her inventory list again before tossing it back with a quiet groan. Who was she kidding? It had been done hours ago.

"Shepard, if the situation had been any different and it was you up there in med-bay, you can be damn sure that LT wouldn't be going anywhere until you were awake. What are you avoiding?"

"Then it's a good thing that I'm not him." She sighed, all too aware that Kaidan had already proved that point after Eden Prime.

"You ignored my question." Ashley grumbled something inaudible, shaking her head. "The both of you knowingly jumped onboard this thing, and given how unlikely it is that either of you will be abandoning it any time soon, the least you could do is show up as his Commander if you won't as whatever you are to him off duty."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Ashley shook her head. Shepard turned away, looking to appear busy by counting individual ammo clips. She looked over her shoulder after a moment. "Why _aren't _you letting this go?"

Ashley peered into the large box before sitting on the edge, rolling her shoulders. "Let's just say I see you about to make a mistake that I've made before, and a part of me slightly regrets it." She held up her hand. "And before you ask, it's a long story and one I'm not telling until I'm bribed. Besides, this is about you, and you only run inventory when something's on your mind." Shepard didn't need to look up to know that there was a pair of hazel eyes narrowed at her. "Talk to me."

Shepard shrugged. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

She heard Ashley huff a sigh. "Shepard…"

"What do you want me to do, Ash?" She asked, relenting a little. "Anxiously pacing around has never helped me before, so I'm sure as hell not starting any time soon."

"That's not my point."

She frowned. "Then what is?" The conversation had lapped itself twice, and Shepard could feel a third coming on if she didn't say at least something towards what Ashley looking for…whatever that happened to be. "Look, I can't afford to be selfish, and for the most part I've never wanted to. I've always been more than glad to do what needs to be done, to do the things that no one else wants to do, and it's been that way for a long time. I only see one option. Let me make this clear, I have _never_ felt conflicted in my career. So the fact that I am now unnerves me."

Ashley raised an eyebrow and gave a low whistle. "Damn Shepard, you really do love him, don't you?"

She shot her a look. "I wouldn't call it that."

"Alright then, what would you call it?"

"I don't know." Her eyes drifted back towards the back of the docking bay, her voice dropping. "I really don't know." She quickly pulled herself back, straightening and giving Ashley a gentle nudge, handing her a box of rations and leading the way up to the kitchen. "C'mon and help me with this."

The lift lurched as it started its slow ascent up to the second deck. "I can't figure out why the hell you're encouraging this."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm not saying I completely agree with it, and I'm a firm believer that hooking up with fellow marines never ends well, but hell, you look like you could use some action that doesn't involve being shot at, and the LT could stand to loosen up a bit." She smiled. "Besides, it's not like you two aren't trying your damndest to hide the fact that you want to screw each other."

Shepard's head snapped towards Ashley. "I'm pretty sure the LT has wanted to do some crazy shit to you for a while, but he's too much of a gentleman to do anything about it." She flashed a grin, "And you've sized him up like a fine cut of steak once or twice."

Shepard sighed, a look of concern tugging at her face as she stared at the wall. "That's _my_ point."

/ - /

The quiet tones of a violin danced in the background. Shepard brought the bottle to her lips and tipped it back. It was the cheap crap—you could never find a good bottle of whisky out of Alliance space—and it burned a bit, but the burn was what she was looking for at the moment. She didn't want anything that would go down smooth. Not right now.

She propped her boots up on her desk, one ankle over the other, and leaned back in her chair, rolling the bottle in her lap back and forth between her hands as she counted the measures.

"One, two, three, four…two, two, three, four…three, two, three, four…"

She stared at the label. It was some obscure brand, something she had grabbed in the Wards without much thought on their most recent trip to the Citadel. The original plan had been to save it until they arrested Saren and she would share it with the entire crew. She'd get another one later.

She took another sip, her foot still keeping measure. She had tried to keep things simple, but simple had just made it complicated. She shook her head, laughing at no one but herself. Alcohol wouldn't make it any less complicated, either.

She leaned forward, working on the laces of one boot and kicked it off, and feeling no motivation to have the other follow suit, collapsed back into her chair. "He nearly died." She said to the bottle, screwing the top back on. It didn't say anything in return, though some irrational part of her wished it would as she tossed it into a drawer of the desk, her drinking mood having dissipated.

It wasn't the first time something like Rayingri had happened; a mission gone wrong, routine turned chaotic. Hell, if Eden Prime was any example, the past twenty-four hours had actually turned out alright. No one died.

_But he almost did._

She groaned, letting her head fall back. Since when had 'almost' been a problem? 'Almost' dead wasn't dead. 'Almost' dead didn't mean a casket with a flag draped over it, or a letter of sympathy to a family. 'Almost' dead was everything _but _dead. But the guilt still remained.

_Why does it matter? Each and every one of you can and will be replaced! So don't fuck up!_

She shook her head with a slight smile, eyeing the drawer of her desk as the bastard's voice echoed in her head. Gunnery Chief Ellison. He was the crotchety drill instructor put in charge of her and the rest of the recruits during basic back when she enlisted. His favorite thing to say for the first three weeks had been that at the drop of a hat, each of them could and would be replaced if need be. The man had the strangest sense of humor…

And one day just to prove his point he sent a recruit home right then and there; pointed at some scrawny blonde kid and told him to drag his ass on home; probably saved his life in the long run . Shepard remembered with some amount of amusement that she had snickered at the kid's misfortune and earned herself four extra laps around the endurance course. She figured that may have been a contributing factor as to why she hated running to an extent. She had spent _a lot _of time on that track.

And as much as she hated to admit it, Ellison's words weren't far from the truth. Everyone got replaced at some point and it was a frequent occurrence in the Alliance, so one could say she was used to it. Most who wore the uniform were. Granted, she was closest with this crew than any other she had served with, and losing any of them would be hard on her but not in the way that almost losing Kaidan had been.

Maybe the scarier thing was that when she thought she had lost him, when her hands were covered in his blood and he wasn't responding anymore, it wasn't fear she had felt lodged in her chest. It was regret. Regret for things she hadn't even _known_ she wanted to say or do but thought that she'd never get the chance. Hell, she still didn't know.

But when Chakwas had told her she was useless to help and pushed her out of the med-bay, she had felt was on the wrong side of the door. That second of emotion, a fraction of sheer helplessness, had abruptly thrown her world sideways and tossed her into uncharted territory without so much as a heading to go on. It was something she hadn't felt for years.

She tilted her head back and ran her hands over her face, focusing on the music in the background. She sighed. "Fuck…"

She could attempt to deny it, perhaps rationalize it away and say that she would have been just as worried had it been anyone else. In some aspects she would have been, but it even then, wouldn't change anything. The outcome would still be the same.

That door had kept her from all that mattered. And the realization of it scared the hell out of her.

/ - /

To say his head hurt would be a grievous understatement. It felt like he was repeatedly taking the brunt force of a krogan's fist to his temple. And while he had never been punched by a krogan before, he couldn't imagine that it was much more pleasant than the consistent throbbing beating against his skull. Or maybe it would. At this point he'd be willing to take any sort of reprieve.

He hazarded to open his eyes, regretting it as even the dimly lit med-bay only proved to aggravate the migraine more. Although in contrast, it made his other injuries feel ten times better. That was probably the only thing he could think of that made his migraines a blessing, their ability to make any other pain pale in comparison.

He looked again, willing to stand the stabbing ache to see the visitor sitting beside him. Shepard had pulled up a chair, one arm propped up on the back with her thumb absently running back and forth over the scar that split her eyebrow, mouth pressed into a frown that was the slightest bit quirked to the side as she read from a datapad in her lap.

He knew that frown. She had a multitude of frowns—some to which he would admit to being fond of—but this was one of her troubled ones, and one that meant she wouldn't be telling him what was bothering her. She never did.

She shifted in her seat, and his eyes flew shut. He heard her sigh and the chair push back, followed by the sound of scattering devices at her feet. Was she leaving? An invisible force pushed at him to reach out to her, to keep her there for as long as his conscience would allow him to be selfish.

Some part of him wanted to monopolize all of her time, to always keep her within an arm's reach. There, he could foolishly believe that he could protect her. Not from the chaos of the life she led, but from herself; from her belief that she was invincible and unbreakable, and most of all from her pride. Christ, from all the things that made her the amazing commander she was today. The same things, he feared, that would eventually choke the life of the woman underneath; the woman who equally made the commander and the one he was increasingly growing fonder of. But he knew he couldn't do that. Not for the sake that it would be wrong, but because she wouldn't let him.

He listened to her movements, the sturdy thump of her boots on the med-bay floor, the soft mutterings of her talking to herself. It took all that he had to remain still, making sure his breathing patterns didn't change. He'd seen a merc attempt to play dead once, and somehow she had noticed. While it did save his life in the end, having the business end of a rifle shoved into his face by Shepard wasn't the reaction he was planning on getting. Neither was being allowed to live, but Kaidan doubted that the man was complaining about that at the end of the day. But he wasn't willing to take any chances now.

She drew near again just as his migraine moved to his temple with new-found vigor, the pain reaching down into his teeth and jaw. He recoiled. Even after living with them for so long, he was never quite prepared for the sudden spikes in pain that varied so much. Her steps stalled, and after what felt like an eternity, the bed shifted with her weight. He wasn't sure what she was doing until a spot of tempered heat blossomed right above his brow, surprisingly taking a small edge off of the pain. Fingertips brushed the edge of his hairline, a delicate touch that sent a tingling warmth through his veins.

"I'm sorry." The words seemed to stall his heart that was determined to hammer away in his chest; words spoken so softly he had a hard time believing they were actually coming from her. "I am so sorry Kaidan."

And just like that, she left, the space near him feeling starkly cooler now that he was alone in the med-bay. He pushed himself up, swaths of darkness swimming in his vision. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rested his elbows on them, cradling his pounding head in his hands.

/ - /

Kaidan rolled his shoulders, scrolling through the litany of messages logged in his omni-tool. Two weeks of troubleshooting questions, badgering from Joker about owing him money from the one rare occasion that he actually beat Kaidan in poker, a summons for him to appear at a hearing about compensation for L2s and…

He pulled up one message, sent only a few hours ago. It was just a single line of text.

_Glad you're back on your feet._

_ - Shepard_

He read it a second time before sending it off to his personal terminal, filing away the rest and deleting the twenty-odd messages from Joker. He leaned on the console in front of him, feeling at home in the familiar setting of his work station with all of the Normandy's systems in front of him. He pulled up the network of communication channels that ran through the ship, drumming his fingers absently while he read through the data.

A few days back a private had come to him saying that there was a sizable delay in the transmission and receiving of most of the information coming through the ship and had sheepishly admitted that in an attempt to fix it had probably made it worse. It wasn't a serious issue as of yet, but if Kaidan didn't find the problem now, it could prove to be hazardous in time. He would have fixed it right there and then, but Chakwas refused to let him out of her sight for any extended period of time. He had a feeling there were more problems like this that had accumulated during his absence.

He was working on a possible solution when his omni-tool beeped. He was half expecting another "friendly" reminder from Joker but was surprised to see that it was from Ashley.

_So, were you actually released from the brig or did you break out?_

Kaidan gave a short chuckle, typing a response back.

_No, Chakwas released me early on good behavior, though I feel like I should be reporting to a parole officer._

He went back to his work, pulling up a map of comm buoys in the system so he could start tracking the relay times, only to be interrupted again.

_Oh man, he's in lockup for almost two weeks and he comes back with a sense of humor. We should have gotten you shot sooner. Hey, if you have a minute you should come down._

He leaned against his console, giving up on his tasks for now. The _Normandy_ had been sitting there for almost a week with the problem. Another hour wasn't going to make much of a difference.

_Be down in a second._

Ashley waved him over as soon as he stepped onto the deck and then turned back to her workbench. She handed him a pistol once he got close—his pistol actually; the Karpov model. He tested its weight in his hands, noticing a difference.

"It's heavier." He said, focusing its sights on the bulkhead of the ship.

"But less likely to jerk out of your hands like it used to." Ash explained. "I had a stabilizing module left over from a junked gun that I threw in there, so the problem you were having with the recoil should be more or less fixed now. It should be easier for you to pop off a few rounds without you having to realign your sights."

He blinked at her before moving to store it in his equipment locker, double checking the safety. "Thanks Ashley."

She shrugged, pulling a gun she had set off to the side in front of her. "You need all the help you can get. We wouldn't want you getting another hole punched through you."

He turned, a retort at the ready that promptly fizzled out when he saw the outline of the rifle in her hands.

"What are you doing with Shepard's rifle?" He scanned the workbench, eyes widening. Ashley had the entirety of Shepard's arsenal scattered about, all in various states of disrepair.

"Shepard can clean a gun like any marine, but she doesn't have the faintest idea on how to make it sing for her." He watched as she dismantled the gun with expert precision, parts coming off that he didn't even know could.

"So you broke into her locker and stole her weapons?"

"Stole is such a harsh term that implies I wouldn't be giving them back." She snapped a component out, tossing it on the table. "I always put them back before she notices, and in better condition than they were before. If she ever found out, she should thank me."

He shook his head, more than a little amazed. "If she found out she'd throw you out the airlock."

She chuckled. "Always the pessimist."

"I believe someone would have said I was being realistic."

He caught a small smirk, but she didn't answer, too busy inspecting the barrel chamber on the rifle. "Damn it Shepard….and she wonders why her weapons are always overheating."

He glanced over her shoulder. "That bad?"

"It'd be in better condition if she didn't feel the need to jam every corrosive mod she found into it." She sighed, showing him the inside of the barrel. "See how the chamber looks pitted in some spots? The ammunition is starting to eat away at the metal. High concentration polonium rounds would be my guess. It's going to take some work to get it back into shape."

Kaidan nodded, taking it as his cue to head back up to the crew deck. "Then I guess I'll leave you to it."

"No you're not." She grabbed his shoulder and twisted him towards the other side of the ship. "You're going to go keep Shepard occupied while I fix this mess."

"Why would I willingly put myself in the line of fire?" He laughed.

"Because I'd do the same for you."

He scoffed, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "No, I'm pretty sure you take pleasure in every unintentional cross-fire I get caught in."

"I can't help it if you're such an easy target."

He turned again. "My point exactly Chief."

"At least go make sure she isn't wiring the controls wrong in the MAKO."

He looked at her. "Shepard's not incompetent."

"I know that." She shrugged. "I just figured you'd want to say hello, that's all."

Kaidan sighed, focusing on the mess of parts on the table. The rifle hardly resembled a weapon as it sat in shambles at Ashley's hands, her closely inspecting seemingly unimportant pieces. He could tell when he was being baited. "I'm sure you can fix it before she even begins to notice."

"Look, just go talk to the Commander. All I'm asking is for ten minutes of stall tactics; you ought to be a master at that by now." She paused. "But I guess I can't force my superior officer to do anything that he doesn't want to. So you can leave me to my own devices and go do whatever tech things you do. Just know that when she finds out and I become space dust, I have three sisters and a mother back home that will miss me terribly. They'll probably cry a lot. I hope you can live with the guilt, LT."

He rolled his eyes, "Ten minutes? That's all you'll need?"

"For her rifle."

"If she suspects anything, it's your problem. I will have attempted to divert her and therefore will have a clear conscience if the worst happens."

She nodded. "Fair enough."

Kaidan was of two minds just to walk away as he had planned as he came upon the MAKO, but knocked on the metal hull anyway, peering into the compartment. "Hey there, Commander."

There was some scuffling and the sound of tools being pushed around before she came into view, eyebrow raised. She didn't say anything.

Kaidan frowned. "What? Something wrong?"

She looked away, smiling to herself before disappearing back behind the co-pilot's chair. "Nothing at all Lieutenant. So, any particular reason why you're down here, or are you just visiting?"

He casually leaned against the MAKO, crossing his arms across his chest. "Ash tinkered with my pistol and corrected the few problems with it. I had a minute so I figured I'd come down and see what magic she's worked this time."

"I've never seen an arms specialist as talented as she is." Shepard mused. Kaidan heard something crack but was surprised that a curse didn't follow. "We're lucky to have her."

"We sure are." He agreed. "She had mentioned that you were over here, thought I might see what's on the list of patch fixes today. Anything interesting?"

"Just a cracked monitor and some routine maintenance."

Kaidan laughed. "Would that be the same monitor I think I just heard break?"

"I didn't break it." She said defensively, a rag harmlessly flying out at him and landing on his arm. "I was trying to get some leverage on it, but the damn thing just won't budge."

Kaidan nodded, twisting the fabric between his fingers, absently pulling at the threads. He looked over at Ashley busily at work. It seemed like Shepard's rifle was already done and reassembled. "Depending on how and where it's damaged, I can see that being a problem. Have you tried pulling off some of the other panels around it so you can get a better angle?"

"Not yet. I was trying to avoid taking apart half the console if I could help it, but it looks like I'm going to have to anyway." She sighed, coming back into view as she climbed out. He saw her gaze follow his.

He tossed the rag back at her. "Giving up already?"

She shook her head, throwing the fabric with what he assumed were the other tools, her attention now elsewhere. "No. Just taking a break." She situated herself in the doorway of the tank, leaning back on her hands with her legs stretched out in front of her.

"What happened to it?"

She gave a short laugh. "Monitors typically stop working when a fist punches through its screen."

Kaidan blinked in surprise, looking down at her. "There's a hole in the screen?"

She met his gaze with indifference. "Not so much a hole, but a huge crack. Multiple of them, in fact."

"How's the culprit's hand?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. How about you ask Garrus?"

"Garrus?"

She nodded, rubbing the back of her neck with a sigh. "It's been pretty chaotic."

Kaidan felt like that wasn't even the half of it. "I can see that. So you're fixing this because he can't?"

Shepard made a face, reaching around to grab what was supposed to replace the broken console, inspecting the wires. "I'm repairing it because I assume he won't. The long and short of it is that he and I disagreed on a certain aspect of his past about a week back, so he's pretty pissed at me right now." She left the monitor on the floor. "With that and what just happened on Noveria yesterday, he's avoiding me right now."

"I take it things didn't go well?"

She frowned, going back inside, talking louder as she worked. "Define 'things going well,' because depending on how you look at it, yesterday went one of two ways. From one angle, also known as the Council's view on things, we took down Saren's second-in-command and got answers to our some of our burning questions." He heard her fighting with the console again. She was determined to get it out her way.

"From the other, Liara's mother died in her arms and the information that some would see as valuable only creates more questions. Not to mention that the Council now has us racing off to some planet with the promise that they have an STG team that has uncovered something of great importance, but no one knows what that is." She grunted as it sounded like the stubborn piece of equipment finally come free. She tossed the cracked monitor on the floor, brushing her hair out of her face as she looked up at him. "So take your pick."

He couldn't care less about what the Council thought. "What about Liara?"

"She's obviously hurting. In more ways than one, and definitely in more ways than I think any of us can help her."

Kaidan looked at her, feeling guilty, namely for everything that he felt that he missed. It hadn't been an easy time, and if he hadn't been laid up for so long, then perhaps... "Damn. Maybe I shouldn't have asked."

Something that resembled worry flashed across her face, but it quickly vanished. "No it's alright. You probably haven't read the debrief yet, and there isn't a reason why you weren't going to find out about it anyway. Concerning Liara, I'm just not sure what to do. Not much, I suppose, in light of everything. I've tried talking with her, but…"

"What can you say in a situation like that?" Kaidan understood that concept all too well.

"Exactly. So it doesn't make any difference whether you hear it from me or not." She pulled up her omni-tool. "Though I could have sworn that I forwarded the report to you."

He reached over and turned it off. "Don't bother. I'm still working on fixing those ranged communication problems we've been having as of late. The debrief probably hasn't sent yet."

"We're still having that problem? If it's not one thing, it's another." She mumbled. "I don't even get how that's possible. I'm finding that I have to send my reports hours before I'm even ready to send them."

"It's most likely just some residual jamming program that we picked up from an encounter with the geth." Alarm widened her eyes. "But it's nothing to worry about." He quickly added. "Besides, I think I've got a fix. If I can just figure out where the signal originated from and find its unique signature, I could create a counter code that should cause the two to cancel one another out. If I can do that, it should solve our problem."

She still looked concerned. "Is this going to affect any of our other systems?"

"It shouldn't, but I can put up some precautionary measures just to be safe. But like I said, it's probably just residual coding left over, and it's only affecting the amount of time for long and short distance data exchanges, like omni-tool to omni-tool, or data that would use comm buoys as a channel of transportation, like your reports to the council. Communications from ship to ship are completely unaffected. If I can at least isolate it, then it's at least a temporary solution until I can do a full system wipe and recalibration."

Shepard whistled. "Thank god you know what you're doing."

Kaidan laughed. "Let me fix it first, then we'll talk."

She smiled, leaning against the MAKO next to him, as she messed with wiring again. She glanced up and jerked her head in the direction of Ashley.

"Looks like she's trying to get your attention."

Kaidan gave an amused sigh, seeing the Chief wave him over. "It would seem that way." He already knew what Ash had planned for him. It involved a combination lock and an armful of weapons. Possibly an airlock if he wasn't careful.

"You better get to it then." She said, glancing back over to Ashley before moving away. "I need to finish this up and calibrate the guns before we get to Virmire. The targeting system's been a little off lately."

"Virmire?" He frowned. "And that's where an STG team will be waiting for us? Those aren't salarians that you send out to a planet for the hell of it."

"I agree, which is why I plan on us being as prepared as we can manage." She chuckled, "I think you should really go. That's the fourth time she's looked over her shoulder at you."


	22. To Live

**AN: **Here we are, the dreaded Virmire chapter. It's pretty much self-explanitory, but there is one thing I would like to note. There are some sections of text that instead of being left-aligned, they're centered. This is because what ever is happening in that section is happening simitaniously with everything else. As I could format it in Word, it looked amazing and worked really well too, but it might have become a little confusing in this. Other than that, read on, and enjoy!

Or not enjoy. Choice is up to you.

* * *

><p><strong>To Live<strong>

"Doesn't seem like much of a vacation spot now, does it Commander?"

Shepard cast a glare over her shoulder towards the cockpit from where she stood, Virmire's sun glaring off of the sheen of the ship's hull, cold water lapping at her boots.

"Hey, no need to go giving me that look." Joker said from the safety of his seat, leaning back. He shuttered. Damn it if she wasn't scary when cast up on the big screen. "Seriously though, stop it. I'm going to turn to stone if you keep looking at me like that then no one is getting off planet."

Shepard flipped him her middle finger before moving away, eyes falling to the horizon, hands resting on her hips. Virmire _was_ a beautiful planet. The vegetation and the cool air, the crisp smell of the ocean; it almost reminded her of the coast back on Earth. Minus the AA guns. And the teaming hordes of geth. Thunder rumbled ominously above her.

And that.

"Please tell me there's more to you than this."

She turned towards the voice, lips pressed into a frown. "I think my crew and I are more than capable to help handle whatever the situation is."

The salarian curtly shook his head, large eyes narrowed at her. "No disrespect to your abilities, but you and your crew are in over your heads. I told the Council to send a fleet.

She crossed her arms, eyebrows pinching together above the bridge of her nose. "What do you mean 'in over our heads?'"

Considering what they had to fight through in the past months—things that exploded when they shot them, things that oozed when they shot them, an ancient alien race that spit acid at them when they shot them, a thing that spit out another thing that shot her when she shot it—Shepard figured that there was little else that could be mentioned that would be out of their league at this point. If a combined force of her team and an STG regiment couldn't take care of it, what the hell where they facing?

"First off, there's about a dozen anti-airship guns trained on your ship's signature. You attempt to take off, and you won't even have time to think about engaging your thrusters before you're shot out of the sky." She watched as he stared past her, running his eyes over the makeshift campsite that surrounded them. She knew from the intense gaze that he wasn't so much concerned with their accommodations than he was with whom he shared those buildings with. His men. His team. "That's not even considering what took out half my squad."

"The Council should have sent a fleet." He repeated, attention shifting back to her.

She was beginning to see why.

She slowly shook her head, "Unfortunately, the only thing the councilors got on the priority channel was static. They had no idea who or what to send, so they sent me." She held out her hand. "Commander Shepard of the Alliance Navy. My team and I are ready to assist in any way possible."

He gave her hand a firm shake. "Captain Kirrahe. Third Infiltration Regiment STG."

She tilted her head towards the large building that loomed behind him. "So what exactly does Saren have hiding in there that requires the firepower of an entire fleet?"

Shepard noticed him tense, his hand shifting to his pistol. "I thought you said the Council wasn't able to brief you on the situation here."

"They weren't." Her eyes darted to the gun at his hip then to his face, her own hand twitching to her weapon. "But with the welcoming party of geth that met us here, I thought it was safe to assume that Saren was involved in some way."

Kirrahe held her gaze for a few moments before letting out a drawn breath, his hand easing to his side. Everything about him seemed worn. "I'm apologize if I seem jumpy, Commander. I've had more than a few of my men come back to the camp under the ruse that they had escaped imprisonment, men that we were certain were lost in infiltration attempts." His face darkened. "They acted differently, but I assumed it was only because they had been held prisoner by the enemy. They weren't my men anymore."

"They were indoctrinated." She said as the rest of her team sloshed through the water to join up with her and the captain. She saw the muted surprise in the salarian's features when the full spectrum of her team gathered around.

His response was slow as he looked at each individual. "Yes, they were, but it means little to us now in our current situation."

"And what exactly would that be?" Ashley asked. "We had a hell of a time just getting here."

"It's a breeding facility." He stated calmly, making eye contact with her krogan squad mate. "Saren's breeding krogan."

And all eyes were on Wrex.

"What do you mean?" His voice was even, but the underlying tone screamed uncertainty and suspicion. And who could blame him? The krogan were castrated by a manufactured weapon from the salarians. Now he had one telling him that the turian he was hunting down had found a way to bypass that. Nonexistent tension found a place to root itself—right in between the Captain and Wrex. "That shouldn't be possible."

"Apparently Saren has found a cure for the genophage." Kirrahe turned his head at Shepard, though it still seemed like he was addressing Wrex. "He's practically developing an army of krogan. The facility and everything it contains must be destroyed."

Tension spiked, and Shepard prepared to throw herself between a trained agent of the STG and one potentially very angry krogan. The outcome in her head wasn't pleasant.

Wrex got dangerously close in Kirrahe's face, and Shepard was quickly trying to come up with the best way to break the two apart that didn't involve her physically taking a shot, but if it came down to that, it would be nothing more than a test of reflexes. So what would she like to be shot with? A few shots from a pistol? A point-blank hit from a shotgun? Neither if she had the choice. The rest of her crew shifted uneasily, a few reaching for their weapon. "Destroy the one thing that could help my people? I'd rather die than see that happen."

Kirrahe stood his ground. The salarian had a daring sort of courage, she'd give him that. "But that would mean letting the krogan go as they once were. We cannot make that mistake again."

Or maybe he was just stupid.

"We are not a mistake!" Wrex barked and Shepard was almost sure that Kirrahe was going to be lying in a pool of his own blood before she could even think move, but to her relief he stalked off to the far end of the beach without another word, leaving the rest of them to exchange tentative looks. She frowned.

"Anyone else think it was a bad idea to piss off the krogan?" Garrus sighed, voicing what they were all thinking.

Kirrahe looked unfazed. In fact, she'd say he actually looked frustrated, like Wrex's reaction was entirely her doing. "Is he going to be a problem?"

"He wouldn't have been had you not thrown oil onto the fire." She was dumbfounded by his sheer tenacity and borderline suicidal comments. "Were any of those jabs really warranted? I would imagine you have enough angry krogan out for your blood at this point to try adding more to their ranks."

"We all need to be onboard if we are to destroy what Saren has built here. And it's best that he finds out now than later."

"Even if he shot you?" Tali commented from the back. Shepard almost smiled.

After spending so much time with Wrex, all of them had become the slightest bit sympathetic to the krogan's plight in some degree. It was hard not to when he followed almost every stereotype that existed about the krogan, but at the same time shattered pretty much all of them to pieces. He was a complicated individual, but they all liked him.

"Everyone just calm down." She gave a single nod to Kirrahe. "I'll talk to Wrex, but while I'm playing cannon fodder, I take it you and your team have a plan?"

"We did, but we should revise it now that you're here. Might give us a few more options to play with."

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like my squad to be a part of the planning. They're some of the best in their fields and know the strengths and weaknesses of our team. They'll be able to add some valuable input."

"I don't see why not." He pointed across the way. "We'll be over in that tent once you're through talking with the krogan, and please talk to Commander Rentola if you need any provisions. We're starting to run low on a few things, but I doubt that we'll be here for much longer, so help yourself."

"Thank you. Just give me a minute with my crew." Once Kirrahe left to rejoin his regiment, everyone shuffled around so that they were in a small semi-circle in front of her. She took a moment to meet each attentive gaze before giving her orders.

"Tali, after we have a definite plan, do a check of our supplies. I'm giving you full access to our funds, so purchase whatever you think we'll need. Garrus, please help her with this. Liara, talk with Joker and see if there's anything we can do to make sure the _Normandy_ is ready to fly. I don't think she took any hits from the AA guns, but you can never be sure. I have a feeling we're going to be using her. Lieutenant Alenko and Chief Williams, see if you can help the salarians with their preparations. They've been here for a while and have taken quite a hit. Any load we can take off their shoulders is one less thing they have to worry about. After everything is done, we'll meet back up here before we head out for the assault. Understood?"

A murmur of yeses and aye ayes followed and she gave them their leave before she focused on Wrex, a towering problem on its own. How the hell was she going to convince him to give up the cure that would save his people?

"You really think this is a good idea?" Ashley interjected from behind her. "He looks like he's about ready to blow."

She didn't take her eyes off him. "I can't exactly leave this be, Chief."

"He's volatile enough as it is, Commander. Pushing the subject might force him over the edge."

"As would ignoring it." She peered over her shoulder with a shrug. "Besides, it's Wrex."

"Exactly. It's Wrex." Ashley crossed her arms, and looked out into the shallow waters. "I think you should be prepared to—"

"No. That's not even an option on the table."

"Commander…"

Shepard faced her, adamant, her jaw set. "Williams, I will _not _put Wrex down like he's some sort of diseased animal. He's a part of the Normandy's crew, and as such he deserves more than that."

Ashley didn't waver. "I don't deny that, but how far do you think he's willing to fight for this? Something that would mean power returning to the krogan and no longer being under the boot of the Council? Would he be willing to take you down if you were to stand against him?"

Shepard didn't answer right away. "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that."

Damn right it wasn't going to come to that. Not if she could help it.

Ashley didn't like it, watching the Commander knowingly walk up to a krogan who was emotionally compromised and likely to snap her neck should she say the wrong thing. Shepard was good, but Ashley couldn't help but doubt that she was _that _good. Hell, she liked Wrex, but he was furious, and trying to talk down a furious krogan was like trying to stop a train with just your bare hands. Ashley wasn't going to stand by while the Commander knowingly courted death.

This was it. A cure for the krogan, a way for them to start to rebuild again. And that damned salarian wanted to blow it off the face of the planet. The mere thought made his blood sing for a kill, rage threatening to boil over. He could kill every salarian in the camp and then…he heard footsteps. Heavier than a salarian—not that one had the quad to face him. No hesitation. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"Shepard."

"Wrex."

Far off chatter filled the silence, waves casually reaching up to the sand where he stood. He waited for her to say something. It seemed like she always had something to say.

Ashley shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable in the brush, though the rock underneath the thin layer of dirt made the task nearly impossible. Not that it mattered. She wouldn't be laying there for long.

She peered through the scope of her sniper rifle. Perfect. Just the right angle. No other casualties if it came to it. No one blocking her shot.

She stood toe to toe with him. "Wrex, just listen, please! You're smarter than this!"

He had had just about enough of talking. All it did was waste time, time he didn't have. He drew his shotgun and pointed it at her, and she stared him down without a flinch. She didn't even blink. Impressive.

"No, _you_ listen Shepard. The line between friend and foe is pretty blurred from where I'm standing. I like you, but this is the survival of my people we're talking about, and you want me to throw it away!"

Her weapon remained holstered, her voice steady. The damned human refused to stand down. He respected that.

"Saren's just using them for their brute power and strength, just as the Council did when they used the krogan to fight the rachni. He doesn't care about restoring your people. He only cares about how he can use that to his advantage. Wrex, he may have found a way to cure the genophage, but these krogan serve him, not themselves and definitely not the krogan race."

Wrex let out a low growl.

"If Saren has his way, _no one will be around._ Not even the krogan."

The sun beat down on Ashley, sweat beading above her brow. She shifted again and focused. The crosshairs fell onto his head, just below the boney rust colored fringe on top of his head.

His hand tensed on the trigger, resistance meeting the pressure.

"Trust me Wrex."

A glint caught his eye, and he turned his head, ever so slightly. Only a cropping of rocks stood in the distance…He snorted.

She saw the muscles in his arm twitch, his shoulder prepare for the recoil of a gun. She bunked down, lining her sights up.

A sanguine gaze met her own.

Her hand tensed on the trigger, resistance meeting the pressure.

Wrex heaved a sigh, the muzzle of his gun slowly lowering. He was going to regret this someday.

"Fine Shepard. We'll do this your way, only because you haven't given me a reason not to." He held out his hand. "I'll follow you because I trust you."

She grinned, clasping his hand with a vigor that could rival any proud krogan. "Then let's make sure I prove myself worthy of that trust."

He knew she said something else, but his attention was on the cropping of rocks in the distance.

_"Why do you keep fighting?"_

_Wrex snorted awake, slipping from his position on the wall. He caught himself and readjusted, shifting his shoulders, trying to find that comfortable spot again. He crossed his arms, closing his eyes. He had almost drifted off to sleep again…_

"_Well?"_

_Wrex huffed and scowled at the small human. She stared right back. Ashley was her name, the one who always insisted on checking his weapons. She did good work. "What's that supposed to mean?"_

_She shrugged, glancing down to tinker with something. "It seems to me that you're always talking about how you wanted to help your people, but then turn around and say it's a lost cause. So I wonder why you keep fighting if it's so useless."_

_He closed his eyes again. Why was everyone on this ship always so damn curious? "Because."_

_She laughed. "Because? C'mon Wrex, you don't do things just 'because.'"_

_He peeked an eye open. "Why did you join your human military? Didn't you tell Shepard that your family name was dishonored or something?"_

_Her face changed and she blinked, pushing the parts away from her as she looked down at the table. Better yet, she was silent. Good. Maybe she would drop the subject and he could attempt to sleep…_

"_Williams _is_ a laughable name in the Alliance." She said quietly. "But it's my name, and my duty to uphold." She faced him, with her chin held high, fiery determination burning in amber eyes. "I will make everyone who doubts know that Williams is a damn fine name to be proud of. My family's past shouldn't dictate what our future is. _That's _why I joined the Alliance. To shove my boot up anyone's ass who thinks otherwise."_

_Wrex barked a laugh, one that turned a couple of heads as it echoed around the hull and actually made her jump. He grinned. "Exactly."_

_She shook her head. "What do you…" And then realization slowly dawned. "Oh."_

"_Everyone—even me—has written my people off as mindless brutes capable of nothing but death." He paused. "Well, we _do_ kickass like no one else, but we were once warriors of honor, something to be respected, not mercs hired for a handful of credits. If someone doesn't smack some sense into the krogan, if someone doesn't get them focused on the right things, we'll die out, just like the galaxy wants us to. And I'll be damned before I give those salarians or turians the satisfaction."_

_Ashley nodded, a smile slowly creeping up to her face. She turned back to her work. "I like you Wrex."_

_He chuckled, getting comfortable. "You're not half bad yourself. For a human."_

_She laughed._

_/ - /_

Shepard bit her lip, staring at the map that was under her palms. It didn't matter where they attacked from or how they split up their miniscule amount of forces. The plan was risky. So damn risky.

She looked up at Kirrahe. "STG or not, your men are going to get slaughtered."

"This is a fact that each and every one of them is aware of, and we aren't exactly scientists in a lab, Commander. We can hold our own."

"I don't doubt it, but damn it…" She shook her head at the map, frowning. "Three heavily guarded outposts, a fortified front, god-knows-what waiting for us on the inside." She pushed herself up. "And no time. This is a blasted suicide run."

Kirrahe grimly nodded. "It is indeed. Which is why what I have asked of you is difficult. If you were to decline—"

She held up a hand, stopping him. "No. If this plan has any chance of succeeding, then we need to work together. You'll have someone from my team."

But who to send? She had already decided that it needed to be an Alliance soldier. Better to have someone who knew Alliance communication protocols like they knew their own name, which all Alliance soldiers did, ground into their heads during—

"I volunteer, Commander."

Her eyes shot up, seeing that Kaidan had stepped forward, coffee eyes brimming with nothing but the smoldering loyalty of a devoted soldier. He was more than capable; a strong leader and a fine officer of the Alliance, used to the pressure of commanding a squad. He would be—

"Not so fast LT. Shepard is going to need you to arm the nuke." Ashley crossed her arms. "I volunteer, Commander."

Standing tall and proud, it was obvious that she lived to serve. Ashley survived Eden Prime when no one else from the 212 did, had more than proved herself during her time on the _Normandy_. She was a fine soldier of the Alliance, and Shepard trusted her with her life. She would be—

"With all due respect Chief, it's the Commander's decision."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "Why is it when someone says 'with all due respect," what they really mean is 'kiss my ass?'"

"Both of you!" Shepard snapped, lips twitching as she tried not to smile. She took a breath. "Just calm down. Lieutenant, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I really doneed you to arm the bomb. I'm pretty sure if I even look at it, the stupid thing will go off prematurely. They didn't exactly teach us Nuke 101 back in Brazil."

Ashley laughed, knowing exactly what Shepard was talking about. "I have a hard time imagining Gunnery Chief Ellison doing that."

Ellison with bombs? Nuclear ones? Christ, if he had had access to anything of the sort, Shepard was convinced that most of her class wouldn't have made it to graduation. And after some occasions, she probably would have been with the lot of them that were ashes in a pile somewhere. Just because Ellison had acknowledged her ability to lead, didn't mean they got along.

She shared a smile with her before she got serious. "Captain, I'm sending Chief Williams with you. She experienced and one hell of a soldier. All I ask is that you bring her back in the condition I send her out in."

"I'll do my best, Commander."

But no promises. She didn't like it, but it would have to do. She couldn't ask for any more.

She tapped two spots on the map, points of interest where their forces needed to focus their assault. "While we're at it, I want you to split the remainder of my team between two of your diversion squads. It'll give us a little more in the way of firepower and it's better than having them wait around on the ship."

/ - /

"The shadow is on the ground. I repeat, the shadow is on the ground."

Ashley crouched beside Kirrahe, awaiting her orders, rhythmically switching the safety on her rifle back and forth. It felt strange, knowing that she wasn't going to be in the thick of it with Shepard at her back. She looked up, surrounded by unfamiliar faces. It was a feeling that wasn't all that foreign to her, having been moved from post to post for years. She never had the chance to set down roots, nor get particularly close with the people she served with. But under Shepard's command, she had developed more than a strong bond with the crew; they were like her second family now.

The captain motioned for the squad to form up tight on his position.

Shepard lightly kicked the generator, scuffing the gray casing with her boot. The comm station quietly hummed above their heads. She pointed at it, moving to get a better look. "Can you shut it down?"

Tali peered up. "It would take a few minutes for me to bypass their firewalls and security, but it's definitely possible. I might even be able to jam their signals from here, make communication and coordinating between separate units much more difficult."

"We really don't have the—"

Three shots, followed by the sizzling of dying electricity cut her off. Kaidan was holstering his weapon by the time she turned to see the smoking remains of the generator. She blinked at him.

"Alright, that works too."

Kaidan shrugged, falling in behind her and Tali as she took point, pushing onward towards the facility. "You were about to do the same thing."

True. She was about two seconds from firing on the generator herself before he had, but she wasn't going to admit to it. "Really?"

"I recognized that look in your eye."

"Okay." Shepard nodded slowly, and then glanced over her shoulder. "And what do my eyes say now?"

Kaidan smiled. "We should probably pick up the pace."

The geth line suddenly broke, a weak point developing in their formation. Ashley lobbed a grenade, the resulting explosion tossing flecks of building scattering.

"Take advantage of that opening!" She ordered, popping up from behind cover and gunning down three geth in the matter of seconds. A hail of gunfire from around her decimated what was left of the enemy squad, mechanical corpses littering the path ahead. Weird…the geth weren't acting as a cohesive group, coming at them in wave after wave. They were broken up, acting individually and sporadically. And while they still had the unending numbers, they were remotely easier to take down. It had to have been Shepard running interference. From her experience, geth didn't miraculously malfunction. Someone else had to be pulling the strings.

A few shots quietly echoed off the surrounding walls of the complex before a lull settled around them. It felt like the air, thick and sluggish. It was dangerous, and pauses like this made Ashley squirm. Stop moving for too long and it actually tired out the muscles more than constant warfare would, but not take a break for long enough and it risked having them caught half-cocked, not nearly ready enough to handle the next assault.

She stood, bending her legs so that they wouldn't get stiff. Have to keep the blood flowing, the adrenaline pumping. Don't relax. Relaxing meant death.

Ashley locked eyes with Kirrahe as she checked with the rest of the team for any injuries. It was a passing glance, but one that shone of resolve to get as many men as he could to the end. It reminded her of someone else.

His eyes flicked ahead and he bunkered down. "Enemy patrol sighted! Get into positions!" His voice carried and commanded respect, all signs of fatigue—however small—were instantly gone within each soldier, even herself. It surprised her to some degree, having been so used to the softer spoken scientists and doctors. But that determination? That persistence? He defied every stereotype that could have ever existed about the salarians and she found that she was quickly becoming fond of Kirrahe.

"Time your shots!" He called out, "No unnecessary risks, and no heroics! Your one and only goal is to get to the next checkpoint!"

_Ashley dug deep, stretching her legs and pulling all the energy she could muster to make the final sprint for her momentary release. Her breaths were short and ragged, more gasps than anything now. Almost there. Twenty more feet. Thirteen feet. She was almost there…and then she tripped, throwing her entire body stumbling forward._

_This is it. I'm gone._

_Ashley waited for the end as she desperately tried to recover her stride. She waited for that dreadful noise that would tell her that her shields were drained and waited for that first searing hot pain of a round tearing through her armor. But it never came. She looked farther up the incline once she her back was firmly planted against the rock to see why she was still breathing. Barely. Running down towards her and catching the geth in a deadly cross-fire was the Alliance's onyx clad version of a guardian angel._

_Reinforcements._

The resolve to get to the end. To live. Ashley pushed her back against a wall and peered around, a fresh squad of geth—easily twenty units—advancing on their position. She let out a controlled breath and took aim. Yeah, she could definitely understand that.

The alarms rang through the building. "We're in."

"And the salarian teams?"

Tali faced Shepard, hand wavering over the console. "They should be receiving less resistance now that we're going to be taking some heat off of them."

She nodded, silently directing Kaidan to take position on the side of the door, opposite to where she was. "Good. Now we don't know what's waiting for us beyond this door, so watch your backs and play it smart." She nestled the butt of her rifle into her shoulder and relaxed. "Tali, open the door."

Shepard and Kaidan rounded the corner into the large room in perfect unison, instantly targeting their fire on the lumbering krogan who had been a second too slow in registering what was happening. He crumpled to the ground.

They just kept coming. Ashley dropped one after the other, but the geth just kept pushing. Relentless bastards.

"I'm going to tell it to you straight. We have a bomb. A very big bomb." Shepard put on the best grim face she could muster before staring the scientist down. "I'm going to blow this place to hell and gone with that bomb. So if you plan on living, I suggest you start running."

The look of complete shock on the asari's face was almost too much to bear, and the sight of her practically falling over herself took everything Shepard had not to laugh.

Kaidan chuckled beside her. "You enjoyed that."

She gave him a crooked grin. "Maybe a little."

"We're getting ripped apart out here!" Wrex's voice boomed in her ear. Jaeto was down to just a few soldiers, which included Wrex and Liara. They had five, maybe six men left. "Shepard needs to get her ass moving!"

"Mannovai's squad leader is down, I repeat, Mannovai's squad leader is K.I.A." With Garrus, they were down to three.

Frantic calls were coming in from both Jaeto and Mannovai squads, casualties rocketing far above what they had planned, and for all of the ground they had covered, the geth were slowly pushing them back. They had no idea that they would meet this much resistance once inside the compound. To stay and fight would mean a massacre. But to call a full retreat would mean the same.

Kirrahe's voice cut through the chaos, like a beacon of light, steady and true. "Hold your positions! Shepard can't be far from the center of the facility now. We're in the final stre—"

Green blood splattered the surface behind, and the captain fell, the fire in his eyes extinguished long before Ashley could reach him.

Just seeing the beacon sent a shiver of dread up her back. Unmarred and a pristine white, it filled the room with the quiet hum of energy. She could have sworn the damn thing was mocking her.

"No sense in prolonging it," she grumbled, approaching it.

"Commander, don't." There was an impossible amount of worry etched in his face as he shifted his gaze from her to the beacon. He was eyeing it as if it might explode like its counterpart did. Hell, he could be right. "Is it really necessary?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Trust me, I'm not all that keen on getting my brain scrambled again either, but unfortunately, I have to." She tapped her temple. "I don't have the full picture, remember? I can't pass up this opportunity."

She reached out, fingers slightly twitching from anticipation. A thought hit her just before and she stopped, looking over her shoulder. "You two might want to step back, y'know, just in case."

"Just in case of what?" Tali asked, sounding alarmed.

"In case it explodes." Kaidan flatly responded, pulling her back with him, his eyes never leaving Shepard's gaze until she turned back. God that man was something else…

"What?!"

"Long story…" Shepard mumbled and stepped forward, an all too familiar force plucking her from the ground.

_An unbelievable pain shot from the base of her skull down her spine, then seemed to spread through her chest and to all of her extremities._ She knew this pain, knew what it threatened to bring. It fought with her, wanting to pull her into the dark abyss of unconsciousness, but she pushed past it. She had to. A million cries for mercy. A million pleas for salvation. _A planet. Multiple planets._ Blood. Everywhere. _Entire solar systems._ We fought._ Burning._ We failed. Miserably failed. _Colossal creatures. Machines. Giant starships. _We couldn't stop them. _Death. Fire_. They are never ending and merciless. _Massive killings. Corpses everywhere. _They won't stop. They will never stop. _Genocide. _This is a warning. The Reapers are coming.

She was dropped from the air, gravity remembering its place as she fell hard on her knees. She tried to quell her body's quivering, stop herself from gasping. She wished willpower alone could ease her pounding head. She somehow managed to wave Kaidan away when he offered his hand.

She pushed herself up, staggering only a little. The vision from the beacon was a full body experience. She felt like she had been sent through the ringer, every muscle aching in one way or another. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep, but this wasn't the place, and she still had a bomb to set and a boot to shove up Saren's ass. Tending to her weariness would have to wait, when she didn't have an audience. She hid it under a grin, pushing her hair back from her face and standing up.

"No explosion. We're doing better than last time."

Shit. Shit shit shit. This was beyond bad. Kirrahe was dead, his motionless body lying next to her. Almost the entire squad was dead, scattered around. It wouldn't be long before she was—

—No. Ashley pushed the thought from her head. If she started thinking that way, she _would _be dead. She had a promise to keep to herself. Saren threatened her family, and she would be damned before she let the bastard bring about the end of either of them. She hurled her last grenade, and dove from cover, rolling to her feet and leading the charge up to the AA guns.

She would live.

"It's nice to see you Joker." Shepard radioed in as her ship came into view, blotting out the afternoon sun and casting a shadow across the waters. It was a magnificent sight.

"Here we have one of our finest, hand-crafted nuclear bombs, for all your explosive needs. Careful now, she's a bit touchy."

She rolled her eyes, watching from afar as Kaidan and some of the engineers loaded the bomb out of the docking bay. Joker was probably heaving a sigh of relief now that the monster was off the ship. Rightfully so, the thing was fucking _huge._ It would do the job nicely.

The rest of her team—Garrus, Liara, and Wrex—had for the most part returned unharmed. Wrex even was escorting some of the remaining STG onto the ship. He had kept his word and ensured their safety, something they probably weren't expecting. All she had to do was get Ashley back and she could call it a day.

"Commander? Do you read me?" It was Ashley.

Shepard smiled, "I was actually just thinking that it was about time you got back. The nuke is being prepped, so time to pack up and meet at the rendezvous."

"Negative, the geth have us pinned down at the AA towers." The smiled was gone. "We'll never make it."

Like hell she wouldn't.

"Joker, get them the hell out of there, now!"

"Cancel that order, ma'am. It's too hot. The Normandy won't make it out. We'll hold them off as long as—"

By the time the radio cut out, Shepard had already grabbed Garrus and Wrex. She turned to Kaidan, ready to explain herself, to hand out the order to hold on until she got back with Ashley, but there wasn't a need. Of course not. It was Kaidan.

"It'll take me a few minutes to arm the bomb. Bring her back, Shepard."

"Hold on Williams, we're on our way!"

Ashley swore, partially because Shepard wasn't thinking straight, partially because the round that torn through her suit hurt like a bitch. She pressed medi-gel to the wound and gritted her teeth, blind firing from her huddled position. Everyone in her squad was dead. There was only her against the geth.

An airship buzzed overhead.

His ear piece crackled. "Kaidan! You have a drop ship coming in hard on your location!"

Bullets flew past his head. He quickly surveyed the area ahead of him, his hands diligently working on their own. "They're already here. Geth are swarming all over the place."

Heat and pain erupted in his side and he dropped into the water, but he didn't hesitate in pushing himself back up. Shepard's voice, strong and steady, cut through the ache.

"Can you hold them off?"

"There's too many of them." His breathing was labored. He'd been hit. He was alone. There was no way he could— "I'm activating the bomb."

Fuck.

"Alenko, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Why bother asking? She knew exactly what he was doing. Knew why he was doing it.

"Making sure this bomb goes off no matter what." Any of them would have done the same. Not that it made the coming decision, the one that had been quietly looming over her as soon as she had run off to go get Ashley, any easier. "It's done. Go get Williams and get out of here."

No.

Gunfire again. Shepard could tell it was just a single weapon, which meant Ashley was alone. "Screw that! Go get Alenko and get the hell out of here!" Ashley cried out, the distinct sound of a voice belonging to one who had just been shot. She'd been hit.

No.

Shepard found herself doing something that she rarely did. Pray. She was praying for a miracle, for something to happen in the five seconds that she needed so that she didn't have to choose, but nothing did and so she was left with a choice. Both were wounded. Both needed her help. And the only way she could face it was logically.

She saw Ashley standing tall and proud, obvious that she lived to serve. Ashley survived Eden Prime when no one else from the 212 did, had more than proved herself during her time on the Normandy. She was a fine soldier of the Alliance, and Shepard trusted her with her life. She was her friend, one of her closest, and Shepard wanted nothing more than to save her…

…And then there was Kaidan. She could see him as he had stepped forward, coffee eyes brimming with nothing but the smoldering loyalty of a devoted soldier. He was more than capable; a strong leader and a fine officer of the Alliance, used to the pressure of commanding a squad. He was a biotic, a lieutenant, the Normandy's tech specialist. Everything about him was special in the eyes of the Alliance…

…And Ashley was just a soldier, and that meant being easily replaced. Had she been sent to guard the bomb…

Oh god, the bomb. The bomb had to go off, no matter what. If it didn't, the quasi-war they were fighting was lost before it had even begun.

Damn it.

Kaidan was the logical choice.

Shepard leaned up against the doors to the elevator, resting her head on her arm and staring down at her feet. She needed some sort of support for the words she was about to say. "I'm sorry Ash. I am so sorry. If I could have gotten to you both…"

And despite it all, her voice was calm, _soothing_ even. "It's alright Commander. I understand. It's been an honor." Shepard would never find another like her.

_No, the honor was all mine…_

_/ - /_

The blast had knocked her off her feet and knocked the air out of her lungs, panic setting in as she tried to breathe. She could only hope that it had fried Saren and his stupid hovercraft with him…though just as Shepard had managed to pull in a few ragged gasps and Saren had picked her up by her throat, it only seemed to have pissed him off more.

He held her suspended in the air with a single arm, regardless of her struggles, hand constricting around her neck, cutting off the air she had tried so hard to get seconds ago. She could feel small beads of blood roll down her neck Bastard was strong, probably because of the tech, she noticed. His eyes glowed an eerie blue, tubes made up large portions of his arms. His face looked like something out of an old Earth sci-fi vid; part synthetic, part organic. No wonder he was so easy to sway during their little banter. He was already well on his way to becoming Sovereign's slave.

A klaxon sounded—the salarians had time to throw in an alarm system?—and grabbed Saren's attention. Shepard managed a grin. Spectre to Spectre, he should have known never to take his eyes off his enemy. Her fist collided with his face and it was enough to get him to drop her.

She scrambled to her feet and readied for another fight, but Saren turned tail and retreated back to his hovercraft that miraculously was still running. Sucking in air like it was her job, she let him go, knowing that she still had a job to finish. She would get him, eventually.

She had been counting since it started to go off, and the alarm was acting as makeshift timer, going off every five seconds. She had no idea how much time she had left. Staggering over to Kaidan, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, her own legs shaking under exertion as she took on most of his weight. They were almost there, the Normandy flying in from the horizon. Together, they hobbled up the ramp and into the company of the Normandy crew.

She made the mistake of looking behind.

Logic was thrown out the airlock.

She could run. She _would_ run. She hated running, hated it with a fucking passion, but she would run. If she was fast enough she could have enough time to…

/ - /

He could feel her intentions radiating off of her as she attempted to pass him off to one of the reached out and grabbed her. "Commander, we've got to go."

She wrenched her arm away. "She's coming with us. I'm not leaving her here." She reached up to her communicator. He could hear her ordering Joker to hold position until she returned with Ashley as she turned away, but he pulled it away from her and grabbed her shoulders, the device clattering to the floor. He was already losing a friend. He wasn't going to lose Shepard too.

"Cancel that order Joker."

It was borderline mutiny. Hell, it _was_ mutiny. The very definition of it.

"What the hell are you doing?"

But he had to do it.

"Williams is staying behind so that the Normandy can get away. So that Saren can finally be caught. If you go out there now, the Alliance will lose you, and there will be nothing to stand in his way."

She pulled away and turned on her heel, striding towards the cargo bay doors that were still open, still close enough to the ground where she could make a safe jump. He caught her again, ignoring the burning pain his side was causing him and held her to him, arms wrapped around her waist.

"Shepard, she's gone."

_**You made your choice.**_

"Like hell she is." She pushed against him. "Damn it Alenko, she's still down there! I can get to her!"

"You don't have time Commander! I can't let you go back!" He held on with all he had, but damn it, she was fighting him every step of the way.

…_I know…_

"Let go of me Alenko." She growled, her attempts at escape becoming more desperate as the ground began to disappear behind the bay doors, the Normandy pulling away from the planet's surface. "I'm bringing Ashley with us!"

_**You can't save them both.**_

"No Commander. Ashley's gone." He repeated. The words tasted sour.

"She won't be if you just let go! Just let me try!"

"I can't Shepard!"

…_I know that…_

"God damn it Lieutenant, let go of me! That's a fucking order!" Her elbow came back hard into his combat suit and he grunted in pain, but it only strengthened his resolve to hold on. The Alliance needed her. The Council needed her. He owed it to Ashley to make sure Shepard stayed on the ship.

_**Then why are you fighting?**_

As soon as the doors closed with a shutter and the ship lurched, making its ascent into Virmire's atmosphere he let his grip loosen. She took a slow step forward, and then another, staring at the bay doors. Everything about her was still.

Kaidan reached out. "Shepard…"

She spun on him, her fist coming in a blur and slamming against his jaw. He staggered back, tasting the blood as it welled up in his mouth. He almost didn't want to look at her, dreading what might be staring back at him. But he did anyway.

He expected to see fire burning behind a cerulean gaze.

He expected to see rage pulling her fist back for another swing.

But it was like he had gone back in time to a day where when all seemed lost, to a day where humanity prevailed against everything that said it shouldn't. A day where when they showed live footage of her on the holoscreen a week after, the pain in those eternally blue eyes betrayed the smile she wore. It was a day she still considered to be her greatest failure.

_"The Alliance doesn't train you for the day that you have to decide who lives and who dies…_

A day where she realized her best just wasn't enough.

…_They just sort of throw you into the water and hope that you don't drown."_

…_Because I wish I could…_


	23. What We Are Willing To Do

**AN: **Hey guys! This was supposed to be longer, but I felt that the end I wanted it to give, while it still fits in with the title, didn't fit in with the content, so a considerable amount was cut. It will be in the next chapter, however, so you guys aren't missing out on anything.

With Mass Effect 1 is starting to come to a close and as I prep for Mass Effect 2, I just wanted to say thanks. You've been extremely supportive and patient in this endeavor and I'm very appreciative of it.

Until next time, thanks for reading

* * *

><p><strong>What We Are Willing To Do<strong>

Joker glanced over at the clock that hung in the corner of the Normandy's bridge display.

25:21, Standard Galactic Time.

Shepard had been in the comm room for almost ten minutes with the Council. That was eight minutes longer than he had expected, nine considering she hadn't started swearing yet, and nine minutes and thirty seconds seeing how her voice was still at an acceptable level for the prissy members of Council. He spun his chair around, getting a clear view of the CIC. A small group of the crew had formed near the comm room, split into two small groups on either side of the partition, all listening in on her conversation. Sure, it probably wasn't the best course of action, especially if she caught all of them out there, though they didn't seem to care.

He turned back to the monitor. They had lost Ashley only an hour before, left behind to die in the blast if she survived the geth long enough. Not that he blamed the commander for her death, it was just difficult. Ash had been there laughing it up with him only earlier that day and now she was nothing more than space dust. And Shepard had made the call. Hell, he had no idea if he could have made the same one.

Shit, Kaidan had stopped her from going back when she had a change of heart and she socked him right in the face. Good on him for doing so, because they would have lost the Commander too, but still…

Joker looked over his shoulder at the whispering group. If she was so willing to put Kaidan in his place when the sexual tension was so thick between them that he was surprised they hadn't jumped one another yet, the nosier bunch of the crew didn't stand a chance against her rage.

"Damn it, you aren't listening to me!"

Joker's attention was pulled to the cockpit's sound system, though he couldn't tell if he was hearing it from the console or her actual voice from the comm room. He looked at the clock again.

25:24. Thirteen minutes. Not bad, all considering.

"Commander Shepard, what you're asking of us isn't that simple."

The asari councilor. It was hard to mistake the sound of her voice. She was usually the one calming down either the turian councilor or Shepard, most of the time it was the both of them.

"How can this be complicated? Saren is about to fuck all of you over, and you're going to bend over and let him!"

"Don't you dare speak to the Council in that manner! You will remember your place, human!"

The turian councilor. He would know that asshole anywhere. Always the first to play the race card, and the last to admit he was wrong. Joker hoped that Shepard got the chance one day to punch that guy in the face and that he was there to record it.

"Remember yours!" Shepard barked, Joker now getting an echo effect as her voice was coming from the console and muffled behind him. He heard something break and hoped it wasn't anything too important. They'd have to rely on Alliance funding to fix whatever it was with the way the Commander was going. "You are the voices for your entire race! By not acting on this threat, you are dooming them all! You cannot ignore Ilos and its significance."

"Commander, we recognize that Saren is a threat that needs to be stopped, but we cannot give you the man power to go trekking off into the Terminus systems to fight a myth."

And finally the salarian councilor, the guy who played both sides. Joker wasn't sure how he felt about him, seeing how he had a habit of qualifying everything so he didn't step on any toes.

"The Reapers are not a myth! Damn it, I've seen them!"

"These machines of legend only exist in your visions!"

"Like hell they do!" Her voice carried past the heavy doors, clear enough to be heard anywhere on the floor, even from where he sat in the cockpit. "I had to leave behind one of the finest soldiers I had the honor of serving with to die today. I did not do that for the sake of some damned vision, and I did not do it to—"

"You're inadequacies as a leader are not something to be blamed on the Council, Commander! The deaths that you have suffered to your crew are yours to bear and yours alone." Joker looked down at his hand, knuckles white from gripping the arm of his chair. He relaxed, watching the color slowly fade back. He spun around, watching the crew. There were more than a few clenched fists in the group, one guy was actually being held back by two of his buddies. They were loyal to her, if nothing else, many of them ready to take a bullet if it came down to it. Or a scathing rant from her because they burst in to defend her honor, as the case may be.

The entirety of the deck fell silent; waiting for the biting remark that they were all so sure was coming. Shepard seemed to develop a more barbed tongue the more pissed off she got, and there was usually a fifty-fifty shot of her becoming more eloquent with her words or her vocabulary plummeting to a handful of colorful swears.

"Yes, councilor."

"Report to the Citadel, commander. We can talk about this more when you return. And while you may not feel like this is in order, you did a good thing on Virmire. Saren will not soon recover from it."

An unbearable hush followed the end of the call, people shuffling back to their posts, none of them eager to tempt fate.

Joker faced the display and started inputting the coordinates for the Citadel, feeling the ship bank towards starboard. God he loved that feeling. The motion dampeners did their job and dulled the effect he felt in the cockpit, but there were days where he wanted to turn them off, to feel every twist and turn of the ship in zero-G. The rest of the crew may not be so up for it, but he knew there wasn't a feeling in the world that could beat it. Excluding the obvious, it was one of the many reasons why he loved piloting and why he wouldn't stop until they had to pry his dead body from the seat.

He hadn't heard Shepard come up behind him until her arm rested on the back of his seat, finger tapping the brim of his hat. He jumped, hand sliding across the console.

"Shit commander, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that!" He adjusted his cap and quickly swiped away the random error messages that had popped up, grumbling. He jerked a hand towards the nose of the ship. "Especially your pilot. I could have sent us hurtling into space with the push of a button and then where would we be?"

"Wouldn't that be something? To have come all this way just to be lost to space." She chuckled, but it was a flat sound. Joker grimaced.

It was quiet, the weight on the back of his chair shifting slightly. He hoped she wasn't waiting for him to say something inspirational. The big chest pounding ooh-rah speeches were her job. He just flew the ship.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, something I can help you with Commander?"

"You have the _Normandy_ pointed towards the Widow System?"

"That's the plan, unless you want to take a detour to a nice sandy beach somewhere."

"A beach?" There was a trace of a grin somewhere in her voice.

"Sure. One change in the coordinates and we could go take an unscheduled shore leave for a day or two. Blame it on low fuel or something, so we had to stop."

"Will there be coconuts?"

"What do you think we refueled the ship with?"

It pulled a laugh out of her. "So coconuts are an alternative fuel source now? I'm sure that councilor with the stick up his ass would love that one." The weight disappeared from behind him, and she moved more into his line of sight. "Nice flying today."

"Thanks Commander, but there's no need to say it." He pulled the brim of his hat tighter to his face. The conversation had made an abrupt turn towards awkward. It may have been reminiscent of their usual post-mission chats, and he liked his title of the being best helmsman in the Alliance to be reaffirmed as much as the next guy, but Joker couldn't shake the feeling that it was forced. He didn't want her to try and make small talk right now, trying to maintain that feeling of normality. He didn't want the illusion if things were anything but.

"It's still good to hear a 'job well done' once in a while." She nudged his seat with her foot. He looked up expecting to meet a pair of sad eyes staring back, but her gaze was fixed on the portside window, glittering stars noiselessly passed by. The long pause made an already uncomfortable situation even more so, and his damn legs made it nearly impossible to make a hasty getaway. There was nothing tactful about hobbling.

"You really think there's a God out there?"

He did a double take. "Um, what?"

She was quiet before shaking her head. "Never mind." She moved away, giving a small wave behind her. "I'll be in my quarters. Nothing gets through unless it's on the priority channel."

"Aye aye, ma'am."

He knew it wouldn't take her more than ten seconds to pass the main display of the CIC due to her long stride, but he gave it an extra eight seconds before he chanced a peek around his chair. He collapsed back into his chair with a heavy sigh when she wasn't there.

_That _was random. What was up with the sudden curiosity if God existed or not? And why ask him? The guy who, if there was in fact some sort of higher being, was most likely its idea of a hilarious joke? The pilot who could snap a bone if he sneezed the wrong way? She was barking up the wrong tree.

He reached forward and pulled up a comm link, absently scratching at his beard. "Maybe Ash could…" He froze .

No, she couldn't.

Tapping the link closed, he pulled his cap off and tossed it on the console, dragging his hands over his face.

/ - /

_Mrs. Williams,_

_I regret to inform you that your daughter, Ashley Williams, was killed in action today._

System readouts silently scrolled across the screen, though Tali wasn't seeing them, not really. Other things had grabbed her attention, like the fact that the ship was quiet, more so than usual. She could hear the soft creaking of metal, the hum of the drive core, but the sounds that normally faded into the background seemed hushed to the point where she would notice them. It was like the _Normandy _had lost her will to keep up her day to day sounds that made it obvious it was a well run ship.

Tali set down the datapad and sat herself in a corner of the ship, leaning her head back and lightly running a hand over the sleek metal. She whispered quietly, her thoughts heard by only her and the ship.

"It's okay. I miss her too."

_**Message deleted**_

_Mrs. Williams,_

_Today I had a decision to make, and unfortunately, that decision cost your daughter her life._

Garrus worked diligently trying to find something wrong with the MAKO, but for once, there wasn't anything. No bent plates, no broken screens. The axles were aligned, the shelves stocked. There was nothing to keep his hands and mind busy. He tightly gripped the frame of the door, peering into the dark canopy of the tank.

It didn't feel real.

Garrus suddenly felt a strong hand clap him on the shoulder and he turned to see Wrex, pistol in the other hand. He pushed himself away from the vehicle just as Wrex launched a round into the closest tire, the air angrily hissing out from its confines, the MAKO listing forward. He walked around and shot the other five tires. He head butted the left flank, leaving a rather sizable dent in the metal and finished his destruction off by breaking the clear alloy that served as the viewport in the front, taking up his normal stance against the back end of the MAKO.

Dumbfounded, Garrus surveyed the damage and added up the hours of work that lay ahead of him, slowly shaking his head. He gently laughed, picking up a wrench.

"Crazy ass krogan."

_**Message deleted**_

_Mrs. Williams,_

_I fucked up._

Liara lay in her bed, lights dimmed so that she could barely see the faint outline of her hand in front of her face. A dull ache persisted in her head, constantly reminding her that she still had a job to do, pounding head or no. She pulled herself up, bare feet touching the cool floor as she crossed over to her desk. She was about to sit when a black, leather bound book caught her eye.

"I had almost forgotten about this." She said softly, leafing through the delicately thin pages. She opened the front cover, ghosting her fingers over a handwritten message. Ashley had such wonderful penmanship.

_Liara, You had mentioned that you don't understand much about human religion, and honestly, I don't either. We have dozens of religions, each with its own moral code and guidelines. While the differences have caused conflicts in the past, it's been shown that despite how starkly different each is, there's always one similar idea: Faith. _

_Keep that in mind when you get the chance to look through it, and if you have any questions, you know where I am._

_Your friend, Ash_

Liara clutched the book to her, closing her eyes.

_**Message deleted**_

Shepard dropped her head into her hands. Letters of condolence had never been this difficult before.

She groaned, letting her head slip through her hands and onto the desk, arms resting on the surface. It wasn't like she didn't know how to write one. She had had the unfortunate luck to have written a few in past years, some of them not even being her place to do so. As the circumstances were, she happened to know the fallen soldier better than the commanding officer did, and it was only in good taste that the letter telling the family that their son or daughter, husband, wife had died in service to the Alliance be as heartfelt as one could manage.

And as cynical as it was, a military death was so much easier when the soldier didn't have a family. No people to die for, no people to live for either. He or she would get a quick funeral service. A few friends would show up, the squad leader and the CO, maybe a couple others. Words would be said, stories shared, and they would see the dearly departed off. No complications. No sobbing loved ones. No obligations.

But Ashley _did_ have people she lived for. A mother and three younger sisters, an unrequited love thrown in there somewhere. A pang of guilt stabbed into her gut and settled there like a rock.

"I might as well have put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger." She said to the floor and then suddenly pushed herself up, pulling her hands over her face.

No. She couldn't fall into that trap. The endless cycle of guilt and wishing for things to be different was a dangerous one to get caught up in. And as much as Shepard _felt _like she was responsible for Ashley's death, she wasn't, not really. She sighed.

It would take a little to convince herself.

Shepard leaned back in her chair, eyeing the screen, fingers absently tracing the marks Saren had ever so kindly left on her neck. A letter seemed beneath Ash, and her family deserved better. She could make a couple of calls, get the family to a comm station and speak to them face to face, deliver the news that way. Dread danced a deadly tango with guilt in her stomach at the notion of it. Staring into the eyes of a grief stricken mother wasn't something she looked forward to.

She'd lost people before, been the cause for civilian casualties, but this death hurt more than the others. She wished she didn't even have to make this decision. Not for Ashley.

Tears pricked her eyes. Shepard tried to snuff them out, furiously wiping them away. She'd cry eventually, she knew she would, but she couldn't afford the flood gates to break and she needed a clear head now more than ever. She took a shaky breath. There was the Council to deal with, a war to stop, a turian to kill, an entire galaxy full of people and lives that hung in the balance. She didn't have the luxury of being able to take time for herself, not with her mission set so precariously on edge, not with her crew dangling over the same chasm. There would be time for grief later. She forced them down, swallowing hard.

But they were persistent and in spite of her attempts fell past her hands and onto her cheeks. It pissed her off and she took it out on her chair, violently kicking it out of her way. Anger, fast burning and short lived, quickly faded away, leaving her with the suffocating feeling of emptiness that writhed in her chest. She took a few steps towards her bunk, maybe to try and sleep it off, maybe to cry into her pillow, she didn't know. She felt the edge of the so-called mattress—the thing had as much give to it as a rock did—nudge the back of her legs like a dog.

I'm here. You aren't alone.

But she knew she was, or she at least chose to be. She didn't want anyone seeing her like this.

Shepard lowered herself to the floor, back pressed to the bed. Sleep was the last thing she wanted, despite her aching muscles that said otherwise. She was too afraid of what she might find if she tried. Knees tucked tight to her chest, she buried her face into her arms just as the first sob wracked her body.

/ - /

Shepard hadn't bothered checking if the coast was clear when she left the washroom, head slightly tilted back with a cold cloth draped across her face trying to ease her red eyes. She had to face the Council in a few hours, and she would be damned if she showed up looking anything less than her best. No need to fuel them any more ammunition against her sanity that they loved to call into question. When she heard muffled voices, she froze, her steps pulling her back around the corner.

"Just take care. I don't want to see you back in my med-bay for quite some time, Lieutenant." Stern but a hint of warm concern, as was Dr. Chakwas' way.

"I'll try to make it less of a habit, Doc. Thanks for patching me up."

Shepard swallowed. He would be out within seconds and if he saw her, he would want to talk. Talk about Virmire. Talk about Ashley. Talk about them. None of which were open for discussion. All of her emotions were too close to the surface, and she knew she wouldn't be able to get a handle on them. Facing Kaidan would mean playing a messy game of roulette with whatever feeling felt like firing off first, and the last thing she wanted to do was punch him in the face. Again.

The doors slid open and she prepared to make a break for the top deck when she put on the brakes, throwing her back to the wall, harshly chiding herself. What was she doing? Trying to duck and cover before the hailstorm hit, with a white flag trailing behind… If she could run headlong into enemy fire with little more than a thought of which asshole she was going to tear through first, then nonchalantly walking around the corner and striking up a conversation shouldn't even be on her list of problems.

She ducked back into the head and tossed the washcloth on the sink, drying her hands on her pants stepping out from behind the cover of the wall, putting on the best unperturbed face she could manage and pushed the turmoil as far down as she could. Feeling herself being slowly backed into a corner by the Council had agitated the waters, and she despised feeling like she had no control. Taking her frustration out on Kaidan, in whatever form it felt like manifesting in, would just add more fuel to the fires.

There were still a few hours left to the night shift, so most of the crew were tucked away in their bunks. It left the mess empty save for one. Kaidan stood hunched at the small kitchen, arms supporting his weight on the counter and favoring his left side, fingers loosely intertwined around a mug. His eyes were closed to the outside world, silhouettes of steam twisting up from the cup towards his face; head dropped low by what she could only assume was the weight of everything they were facing having suddenly crashed onto his shoulders. His brow twitched and she wondered if it was from a migraine clawing its way through his head.

Shepard soundlessly paced up to him and positioned herself beside him, reaching to grab a mug. Kaidan reanimated and gently pushed a cup towards her, a deep brown coffee rippling against the motion. His eyes remained fixed in front of him.

"Figured you would want some."

She graciously took it, wrapping her hands around the warmth of the ceramic, blowing away the wisps that lazily drifted about, trying to ignore how much it bothered her that he wouldn't look at her. She situated her back against the counter. "Thanks."

They stood in silence, the ship's hull creaking occasionally as it expanded slightly and contracted again in the sub-zero temperatures. There was some dulled chatter coming from the upper deck, though it intermingled with the natural hum of the ship that was constantly present. Shepard became aware of it all at once, and as restless as the ship was, the seemingly physical quiet was making her stir crazy. She had to stop her foot from tapping, tried not to trace nonsensical lines on the smooth surface of the mug. She opted to sip at her coffee. It was black, but she didn't care to add anything to it.

"I'm sorry."

The soft words pulled her gaze to him and found herself meeting questioning, remorseful eyes. It took everything she had not to look away. She didn't want him painting her in that sort of light, that she was free from blame.

"I'm sorry," he said with more strength, straightening and fully facing her. "My actions and lack thereof forced you to make a decision that—"

Shepard let out a sigh and set her cup down with a _clunk._ She hated the formality of his voice. "No. Don't go down this road Kaidan."

He frowned. "All I'm saying is that I accept responsibility for not being able to adequately carry out my orders. My failure to properly protect our objective cost us dearly."

She jabbed his chest. "And I'm saying that you can't pile on the blame like that. You cannot believe that everything hinged on your position and that a laundry list of variables that we had _no way of knowing _was your responsibility to predict. It's insane to think that." She tried to keep the edge out of her voice.

"Then who do we blame?" he asked, almost accusingly. "Where did it all go wrong? Who takes the fall?"

Frustration that couldn't find purchase earlier in her quarters found solid ground to stand on. "How the hell am I supposed to know?" She snapped, instantly regretting having done so. She ran her hands over her face, with a quiet groan, now frustrated with herself more than anything. She exhaled sharply.

"The vastness of our situation eluded us until recently. Saren was always the known threat, sure, but the real danger was the shadow that loomed behind him, the one we never realized was there. Sovereign, this reaper, is vigilant and silent and has always been pulling the strings. But it was always obscured by lies or things we just can't understand, and because of it, we underestimated the enemy." Her eyes found his again. "_I _underestimated the enemy. This damned thing has always been bigger than we knew, and now that we see it for all that it is, hindsight is truly a resentful bitch."

She pulled at her lip with her teeth, looking ahead at the small row of lockers that stood on the opposite wall and loosely folding her arms. "So the question of the century is exactly that: where did it all go wrong? Who or what becomes our convenient fall guy?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe it's all of us, or maybe it's none of us. We just don't know, and the lines are too blurred to be able to bring the brunt of the hammer down on any one person."

She looked into his face and could see the wheels turning in his head as she firmly held his gaze. "We did the best we knew how to do, fought with every ounce of training we've ever had. There wasn't some secret weapon we were holding out on or some force of well-armed men that were twiddling their thumbs waiting for deployment. We were stretched as thin as we could be without breaking, and being dealt a lousy hand of cards, we did what we could with them."

Hearing the words said aloud, she found she could almost believe them to be true. Maybe there were some things, some instances in life that no matter how much she pushed and pulled, pounded her fists, swore and shot at it, there wasn't going to be any sway to it. She didn't like it.

A faint, ghost of a smile, though guarded, found its way to his face. "That's not the first time you've used a poker reference."

"I know my way around the cards. If you would stop missing poker night, then maybe…" her words trailed off, eyes growing wide. "My god, your face…" Shepard had no idea how she had missed the large bruise on his jaw, one slightly smaller than what a clenched fist would be, purple and blue and all sorts of horrible. Her face contorted with concern, her hand unconsciously moved up to his jaw, rough stubble and heat meeting her fingers. "Shit, I didn't break it, did I?"

He chuckled softly. "It's no worse for wear. Though I will say you have a mean hook."

"And that's my off hand." She grimaced. "I'm sorry Kaidan. Things were crazy and I'm sure I was operating with far below the proper oxygen levels that one should thanks to Saren. The adrenaline was going and I just wanted to—"

"You wanted to save Ash and I stood in the way."

She blinked twice, once when she noticed where exactly her hand was and pulled it back, the second when the sadness of his words sunk in.

She tilted her head sympathetically. "Of course I wanted to save Ashley. I wanted to save the both of you, with everything that I had. But there wasn't enough time, and so I made a choice."

Kaidan shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. He spoke to the floor. "But _why_? Why choose me? I know how close you two were."

"You know as well as I do that when it comes down to the wire, personal feelings can't come into play. That's when the real mistakes start being made. I assure you they didn't. I chose you because you were with the bomb, and the bomb had to go off. That's it."

He was quiet, and she could almost hear the gears clicking in his head. There was a deep breath.

"And if Ashley had been with the bomb?"

She touched a hand to his arm, warmth beneath her fingertips, the physical contact making him meet her eyes. She spoke concisely, emphasizing the words that mattered. "I would have chosen her. Kaidan, I have no illusions about what happened. It isn't something we can discuss over coffee and put in the past, but we also have things that need our full attention right now. I need you to have your head clear and focused for the final stretch. Can you do that?"

The seconds dragged on as her words found purchase in whatever thoughts were so visibly racing through his head. Their eyes never left the other. Then Kaidan slowly nodded. "Yeah. I can do that."

Shepard exhaled, the tension easing out of her shoulders. She didn't know if they were out of the forest yet, but for now at least they weren't fumbling around in the dark. One hurdle at a time. She could live with that.

"Commander, I—" The quiet voice startled them both, and she and Kaidan looked up at Liara who had appeared from her room, arm full of data pads that she was working on not dropping. She gave the impression of being particularly flustered, more so than usual, a thousand thoughts bumping into one another. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Shepard cleared her throat, eyes quickly darting up to Kaidan before crossing over to help relieve the scientist of her burden. "Nothing that can't be put on hold for a moment." Shepard chuckled, catching a device as it sprung free from her arms. "This is quite the collection you have here Liara."

"This is just some of my research, Commander." She explained, shifting her grip to better cradle the load of information. Shepard wanted to laugh. What Liara saw as just a fraction of her work would amount to a lifetime of studies to some human researchers. "When our minds melded, I saw a planet that I knew I recognized from my studies, a place that is just as much a legend as the Protheans themselves. Ilos."

"Ilos?" Shepard shook her head, reading the content that was in her hand. Something about the effects of supernovas on the mass relays and how the dust could eventually envelope the relay, effectively blocking it from any sort of scanner… her head snapped up when it clicked. "The Conduit is on Ilos."

"It took me some time to check the facts, but as long as the beacon hasn't left out any pertinent information, then yes, I'm certain it is where Saren is directing his armies."

"Certain enough to convince the Council that there's probable cause to go?" She didn't attempt to hide the rush of hope. This was exactly the push they needed.

"Positive."

Shepard turned to Kaidan, eyes asking more questions than the one that fell from her lips. Under the intense brown eyes that stared at her, Shepard suddenly became aware of the immense amount of uncertainty that stood between them. It made her hesitate, but she bypassed it, filing it away with everything else that wasn't her top priority. "Are we good?"

He nodded, taking his coffee back in hand. "We're good."

Shepard linked her arm with Liara's and pulled her towards her quarters, a renewed vigor in her step. "Then we have some work to do."

/ - /

The elevator ascended into the tower, the Presidium disappearing behind a wall of grey. Shepard did a final check of her armor, fixing the same buckles and straps she had been messing with since she stepped off the Normandy. She had half a mind to walk into the Council chambers in her Alliance dress blues, chest gleaming with every medal she had ever been awarded. It would be the one occasion she wouldn't mind bragging about the story behind each one, anything to bring some validity to what she had to say, but she knew the Council wouldn't care whether she was flying Alliance or Spectre colors. She could have shown up in civvies and they would still give her the same bullshit song and dance.

Upon reaching the top of the tower, she strode past the fountain and up the forty-three steps that lead to the Councilors, six eyes staring her down from above as she stood on the Petitioner's stage, Udina and Anderson flanking her on either side. She kept her shoulders square, jaw set and eyes level. She was there to win.

"Commander, I hardly believe your _entire _crew needs to be present for this hearing."

Shepard turned her head enough to view her squad behind her, each with straight spines, the lowlight giving their armor a soft glow. She shrugged, lips twitching trying to keep a smirk down. "This is just my ground team. If you want the other sixty-two crew members of the _Normandy _to testify, they're currently on stand-by. I can have them here in under five minutes."

The turian councilor's mandibles twitched as she defiantly locked eyes with him, daring him to tell her otherwise. He released a tense sigh. "That won't be necessary Commander. Nevertheless, it is also not necessary for—"

"Spectre Code, Section Two, Clause Five. A spectre may bring forth any and all parties that he or she believes to pertain to a case."

She could see the fuse light on the turian's temper and she waited for the explosion, though was thoroughly surprised when he didn't fight back. The asari councilor decisively cleared her throat.

"Ambassador Udina tells us that you've come to attempt to sway our decision. While admirable that you are so devoted to your cause, Commander, there is nothing that you can say that will change our minds."

"Councilor, with all due respect, not going directly after Saren is a mistake. Doctor T'Soni has solid evidence that the Conduit is on Ilos, and if the Council were to act proactively instead of reactively, we could prevent any lives from being lost before Saren has the opportunity to take them."

"Evidence, you say? So we know what the Conduit is? What it does?"

Shepard shook her head, "Not exactly, but if you would just—"

The salarian councilor sighed. "Then this matter has already been discussed and laid to rest. We cannot send in the strength of our fleets into the Terminus system without probable cause."

She slowly exhaled. She knew when she was facing down an opponent that was just as headstrong as she was. In most cases she would come out on top, but the Council was the Council, and where they didn't have sense, they had power.

"This_ is_ probable cause. Please, just listen to what Doctor T'Soni has to say. It will be enough to convince you that you _must_ pursue Saren."

"That remains to be seen, Commander. You do realize that what you're asking us to do is to risk war with the Terminus without fully knowing what lies on Ilos, yes? If Saren is jaded enough to believe that he can take the Citadel, then let him try. He will face the full force of the station's fleets and will fall beneath their firepower."

Shepard lightly bit her cheek, fingers impatiently tapping against her thigh. Saren wasn't the real threat. It was clear that the Council denied the reapers existence, which was all fine and dandy, but while she still had a glimmer of a chance to get out into Terminus space, she couldn't mention Sovereign.

"Then don't send the fleet. The _Normandy_ is ready to fly. Her stealth systems will ensure that we remain undetected and the crew is well versed in high-risk mission such as this. We can be in and out of the system before any scanner has the chance to pick up on our signature." She had wanted each person of her team testify, explain to the council that what they were facing was more than what they were willing to see, but the chance for that had come and gone.

The turian councilor barked a harsh laugh before narrowing his eyes at her. "And how do you plan on dealing with Saren if he is such an imminent threat? I would hope you know that while your ship may be invisible to them, every scanner in the sector will go off if you decide to detonate a bomb on his ship."

She involuntarily flinched. "While you may not agree with my resolutions, you have to admit that it was innovative concerning the circumstances that we faced."

"We read your report. Do not mistake innovative with primitive. If a nuclear bomb was the best solution you could come up with, then perhaps humanity wasn't as ready for this honor as we were lead to believe."

She snapped, taking a step forward. "Dammit, instead of backhanding us every chance you get, let us show you otherwise! We can be more intelligent than any salarian, more diplomatic than any asari, and sure as hell we are more headstrong than the turians. But the council has had its head stuck so far up its ass that none of you can see that there's more to humanity than your fucking misconceptions!" Somewhere in the back of her head she realized that she was only living up to one of those statements, but she couldn't care less.

Udina stepped in front of her and roughly pushed her back. She looked at him, appalled and slightly impressed that he had the balls to do so, staying the instinct that told her to drag her fist across his face. "That is enough, Commander! Stand down or I will have you relieved of your position for disorderly conduct!"

Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and of all the things Udina was, she could see that he wasn't a liar…well, not right now at least. He'd have her on a shuttle for Earth in a heartbeat if she gave him a reason. Shepard dipped her head in a silent apology, teeth digging into her bottom lip out of frustration. She had stepped over that line. Meeting the gaze of each councilor, she could have sworn that there was sympathy hidden behind the guise of the asari councilor, or maybe it was pity. She waited for the hammer to fall.

"Commander, I will ask you this once: Are you willing to stand down and accept the ruling of the Council?"

Shepard held her chin high. "No."

"Then you leave us no choice." She motioned to Udina. "Ambassador, this is your order to give."

"Commander Shepard, by the authority of the Alliance, the _Normandy _and her crew shall be grounded until further notice. You ship will be impounded and all travel from the Citadel will be prohibited for your entire crew."

"What? You can't do that!" She spun around to Anderson. "Sir, tell me he can't do that."

From her team that had been silent during the debacle Kaidan spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically solemn. "He was appointed by the Systems Alliance to serve as humanity's representative here on the Citadel. He has been given the right to make decisions that he sees fit for the benefit of our entire race. Those that he can't make on his own, he brings it to the Parliament's attention, and they can clear or deny any request. So technically, yes. He can."

She felt a tap on her shoulder and was handed an OSD. "There you will find your orders from Alliance Command." She opened her mouth to protest the absurdity of locking her out of her ship, but the ambassador's tone made her think twice about digging her hole any deeper. "These terms are non-negotiable Commander."

She swallowed. It did nothing to alleviate her dry throat. She had no choice but to give in. "I…yes, sir."

Udina looked her up and down on last time and turned to the Council, a smug grin wrinkling his face. His entire person emitted victory. "Then you are dismissed, Commander."

Her crew parted down the middle, understanding the look she gave them as she passed.

Don't say a thing.

One by one, they followed her back down the forty-three steps and were silent until the elevator slowed to a stop. They filed out into the Presidium. Wrex was the first to speak.

"So, what's next? We knocking some heads together? Because I still have a few contacts left in the wards. We can really give those bastards what's coming to them."

Garrus crossed his arms over his armor, giving a light shrug. "For once, Wrex has the right idea."

"Damn right I'm right."

Garrus shook his head, ignoring the krogan. "We can't just sit here and wait for Saren to roll on through. Somehow the Council has got to listen. If that takes leaning on them a bit, then why not?"

"This is the Council, the seat of our government and composed of the most powerful people in the galaxy. Attacking them in any way is treason." Liara cautioned. "Doing such a thing would make our stay on the Citadel permanent."

"Then why not take the passive approach?" Tali pulled up her omni-tool, scrolling through the encryption programs she had stored. "I could hack into their main systems and reverse the lockdown order. Send it in as a discreet virus."

"Wouldn't work. The firewalls surrounding anything concerning the Council are damn near impregnable. C-Sec had its best technicians develop the countermeasures, and it's monitored constantly. A virus would be fried before it could get anywhere near the source."

Garrus nodded. "Kaidan's right. I've seen those systems myself. No way around them."

"We could steal a ship." Wrex suggested, a mischievous glint shining in red eyes.

"We need the _Normandy_. She's the only ship that can get us in and out of the Terminus without causing a war between the two systems."

"Then what do we do?"

"We do nothing." Shepard spoke up, earning the shocked stares of those around her. "Look guys, I'm more than impressed by the lengths you're willing to go to, and if this was any other case, I'd be hopping on all of your ideas, but our hands are tied. Not only are these joint orders from the Council and my command, the _Normandy _is an Alliance warship. Taking off with it against orders is akin to stealing it. To ask the entire crew to do something that would destroy each and every one of their military careers is something I cannot do."

"So that's it? Game over?" Garrus asked incredulously.

"Not if I have anything to do about it." She assured them with a quick grin. "But I have to go through the official channels and try to find someone to repeal this lockdown order, which may not be the easiest thing to accomplish. So for now, I need all of you to do something for me."

Keen murmurs rippled through the group, and she felt a swell of pride. This was, by far, the best squad she had ever had the honor of serving with. Which made her next order an easy one to give.

"Take some shore leave, all of you. No preparations, no thinking about how to extort the Council. I want each of you to _relax_." When they started to protest, she held up a hand. "This is not a request. We've been running hard for the last few weeks, and I need all of you at your best. So go get into trouble, but not enough so that I have to come bail you out of jail." She quickly added, eyes sparkling.

"That means you Wrex." Tali laughed, nudging the tall mercenary.

"Yeah, try not to start any fights in the bar." Garrus quipped, "I don't think I carry as much weight with C-Sec as I used to. May not be able to get you out."

"I recall that wasn't much to begin with."

Garrus mocking clutched at his chest, Wrex howling a hearty laugh. "Ouch. You wound me Liara."

Shepard chuckled, shaking her head at her friends. "Dismissed."


End file.
